Pride
by Alliance Webb
Summary: Will be rated M for language and sexual suggestion in the future. Romantic Slash, Jayne/Simon. When Jayne throws himself in front of a bullet intended for Simon, Simon searches for a way to repay Jayne for saving his life. In the process he learns more about the oaf than he'd ever known before - a tenderness that Jayne will stop at nothing to hide.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is the tip of a much larger iceberg. I haven't put fingers to keyboard(?) in about three years for more than term papers. Please be gentle, this is an experiment with two different challenges: third person omnipotent (which I blame no one, anywhere, for ever not wanting to use this POV), and taking two characters that otherwise hate each other's guts and finding a way to keep them as canon as possible while bringing them together romantically.

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Right where he ought to be. Where he belonged. At the giving end of a big ole' gun. Jayne Cobb stood contented as he stared down the barrel of his beloved Vera. "Does that mean I get ta' shoot 'em, Cap?"

"I reckon so, 'less the fine man has something more he wishes ta' say."

"Ah, well that's real good then, 'cause I've been itchin' ta pull the trigger ever since I laid eyes on this scrawny beau," Jayne lifted the gun only slightly to activate the shooting mechanism.

"No, my word, please no, I told ya's everythin' I know, I swears it." A young man, no more aged than 20 years stood quivering before the pair. His deep crimson suit fit tight enough to reveal just how badly his entire body was shaking. A single drop of sweat left a path from his left temple to his chin. "Please!"

"Then I guess we're done here." Mal Reynolds turned his back and listened to the familiar buzz of Vera's readiness.

"He sent a letter! Just a'fore he left – sent it postal. Might'n have even left the shop – was supposed ta' be headed ta' his lady friend. Please don' shoot!"

"Well that's the sort'a thing we call helpful, ain't it, Cap?" Vera continued to buzz in anticipation.

"For me, sure, looks a might unfortunate for you though."

Jayne lowered his weapon. "Aw, now, Cap, you been teasin' me for a month straight at how I'd get ta' put off a little steam on this job."

Mal smiled and found his gaze square with the young hostage. "To be honest, Jayne, I didn't think this one would be so easy to crack. Think of it… as a compliment – he's more afraid of you than he is of his psychotic employer."

Vera's buzz dropped to a low hum and with a hiss became silent. "I dun' know about complimenting much, but ain't a folk supposed ta' feel better after gettin' one?"

Mal laughed and patted the gruff, dejected man on the shoulder before extending a hand to the shoulder of a well dressed young doctor. "Well, Doc, looks like we didn't need ya' after all." Mal lifted his transmitter to his mouth. "Zoe?"

'Yeah, Cap?' it responded.

"Check out the mail house for me, will ya, lookin' for a letter came in today, headed for the missus."

'You got it, Cap.'

"Jayne, please escort our fine doctor back to the ship while I fancy up a way to make sure our friend here isn't sending any heads up places they ought not be headed," Mal brushed the two of them off and relished in the panicked pleading of the young mobster as he lead the crimson suit in the opposite direction. "I'll rendezvous with the others and meet ya back at the ship."

Jayne stared at Simon, disgusted at his spotless complexion, his innocent and caring eyes, and his deplorably kind smile. "Why's the Cap always gotta stick me with no fun?"

"And tying up another man is something you find fun?" Simon stared at Jayne and was met with the blank expression that could mean only one thing – he'd just said something incredibly stupid. His cheeks flushed almost as brightly as the mobster's suit as he turned to walk toward the ship.

"Anythin's more fun than havin' ta duke out a whole twenny minute walk with yer sorry ass complainin'," Jayne was kind, allowing the previous comment to pass noticed but not acknowledged.

"Well I'll try not to moan too loudly." Silence – again. A blank expression – again. "Never mind, I'll just keep my mouth shut."

"One o' the smartest things I ever heared ya' say," Jayne tossed Vera over his shoulder and trudged on behind the doctor, keeping a sharp eye out for any possible friends of their captive. A near seventeen minutes passed marked only by silence when a distinct whisper floated across the wind into Jayne's ear. "You hear that?"

"What?" Simon heard nothing but found himself almost immediately buried, face first, into the ground as an all too familiar whirr buzzed and then landed with a shattering thud. He didn't have time to look up before the whirr got a boisterous reply from Vera aiming with deadly force into the heart of their attacker. Simon checked himself nervously, he'd heard the thud – the bullet had landed in flesh. He checked his arms, his chest, his legs – and found nothing. No blood, no holes.

"God damn… fuck. This was a new shirt!" Jayne screamed at the dead body hanging over a far off rock. He lifted his fingers to compress the quickly widening red stain on his right shoulder.

"I'm alive," Simon breathed. "I'm ok," he told no one. "I'm – are you? Jayne! Your shoulder!"

"No duh, ya log head, now let's get movin' 'fore the dead finds backup." Getting shot was nothing entirely new but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like all hell. Jayne could feel the hot sleepiness of pain creeping up into his skull as he dragged the doctor to his feet and pushed him onward. The blood was beginning to flow down his arm leaving a small trail in the dry dirt behind them. As the ship came into sight, he noticed his eyes were getting sleepy and that Vera had seemed to put on a bit of weight. 'I should'a never'a tossed myself in fronna that bullet like that,' he remembered thinking when Vera's extra pounds pulled him to the ground and sleep came at him as fast as the ground he was crashing into.

Simon could only stand helpless as the giant of a man crashed unceremoniously into the dirt. Getting a good look, now, at the gaping wound in Jayne's shoulder, Simon realized just how serious the wound really was. The shot caught him perfectly in his major artery and his entire right side was now covered in a thin coat of blood. Reaching for Jayne's communicator, he called in to the ship. "Kalyee, I need you to bring the cart out here – ASAP! Jayne's hurt." Simon proceeded to tear off Jayne's shirt and use it to compress the wound as he waited for help to arrive.

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Final AN: I am currently in the market for a beta. I would like one as soon as possible. If you're experienced with Firefly, third person omnipotent, and dialogue for this particular series – I need you. Mature betas only please, as I find it easier to understand critique of people closer to my own age. Please review with your honest opinions. My sincerest thanks, Alliance.

Editing note: In the last paragraph, the line "Shepherd, I need you or Kaylee…" has been replaced. I have since decided that this story does, in fact, take place after Miranda so some minor editing did need to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Still looking for a beta. This will be my only update before it is finished in its entirety unless I have adamant reviewers or can find a beta. I'm working on it at a pace of 1500-2000 words a day, which I think is fair. Please read, enjoy, and toss a review here to let me know if you like the direction that I'm headed. There's a lot of set-up that needs to be done to bring two very different characters together , so I apologize if it's still moving kind of slowly for your liking. Also – reviews on if the changing POV is confusing would really help me out a lot. Being the author, I know what I'm doing – and find it hard to tell if others will know what I'm doing as well.

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Lights always seem a lot brighter when you've had your eyes shut for a long period of time. And that's exactly what Jayne was seeing as he opened his eyes. He squinted and squirmed a bit to get his bearings. Whatever had happened, he was sure he didn't like it. Or at least he thought he didn't like it. He wasn't very sure of anything at this precise moment. He contemplated – and mind you, this is a feat for Jayne Cobb. He wiggled his toes – at least he thought he was wiggling his toes. He licked his lips, they tasted like… dirt, but good dirt, the kind of dirt that tastes… good. Now brighter lights, something was moving in front of his face. He laughed.

"Jayne? Jayne, can you hear me?" It was Simon.

Jayne tried to focus and found himself staring at a blurry version of one, possibly four Simons.

"Jayne, I need you to focus for me," Simon stood over the burly figure, his eyes dark with concern. "How do you feel?"

"Where's ma' shirt?"

Simon let out a sigh of relief and ran a cold cloth over Jayne's forehead. "Your shirt fell casualty, I'm afraid."

The feeling of the cold cloth on his forehead almost tickled. "Why do I feel so… fuzzy?" Jayne wasn't lying. Everything felt wrong, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, his eyelids moved in slow motion and he was quite sure that, were he to stand up, he would ralph all over – wherever he was.

"That would be the drugs, it'll pass, you lost a lot of blood." Simon continued to run the cool cloth across Jayne's face, stopping to gently wet Jayne's lips before running it back and forth under his chin and across his neck. His clavicle on the right side was still pretty swollen and he left the cloth lay there, hoping it would give his patient some comfort. "I'm very thankful for what you did, Jayne."

"What did I do?"

"You took a bullet for me, I could have been dead if it weren't for you."

"Don't… tell anyone," Jayne's eyelids became dark and he felt the warmth of pain work its way back into his head as he blacked out once again.

Simon watched the man fall back to sleep and used that moment to stare at his face. His poorly shaved, scarred, and rugged face sat motionless, sweat adorning his every pore. The man was in pain – and that was something that he'd just have to deal with now. Simon had done everything he could, but this time – he wished he could do more. He grabbed a new cold cloth, dropping the old one back in the cold water, and proceeded his vigil of giving the crude man as much comfort as he could possibly muster.

ooooOOOoooo

Things were a bit clearer this time when Jayne came to. Most clear was that he was in pain and he didn't like it, not one bit. He moaned loudly hoping that if anyone were in ear shot to hear him, they might run to rectify this lapse of excruciating awareness. But there was no answer. No one came running to his bedside. He tried to sit up but found he was bound in place by a cleverly placed restraining devise. He moaned louder as he struggled against the restraints, this time rousing the doctor who had, in a moment of weakness, dropped vigil to catch just a few moments of shut eye.

Simon sprang into action grabbing another cool cloth and reporting to Jayne's call. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He patted Jayne's cheeks with the cloth.

Jayne looked at him quizzically, not sure what to make of the cold cloth on his face or the tenderness that the doctor was showing toward him. He scowled. "I feel like I got shot in the fuckin arm," he roared. "And like I'm tied down like some animal waitin' fer slaughter. And like if I dun' get a good 'splainin soon, someone's gettin' hurt."

Simon jumped back, knowing that the man was in restraints didn't make him feel any safer. "Um, sorry about that, when you fell back asleep, you started thrashing. I was worried you'd reopen the wound so I restrained you."

"Well let me dafuck out!"

Simon nodded. "Yeah, of course. I just, I'll have to warn you," he unlatched the restraint. Jayne immediately sat up and prepared himself to take a swing at the doctor. Instead of his fist landing squarely on the jaw of the upright young man, his entire body went limp and he stumbled, crashing to the ground. "That if you move too quickly, you might get dizzy and black out again," Simon exhaled and walked over to the intercom. "Cap, Zoe, I could use a hand in here." He turned back and proceeded to put the man on his back, sighing with relief that the wound had fallen unscathed. Simon listened for bootfalls on the nearby stairs.

"Should I even ask what happened?" Captain Reynolds shook his head upon entering the infirmary. He'd seen Jayne get out of some pretty nasty scrapes, but this was the first that had laid him out flat like this. He rounded the doctor and proceeded to slip his arms under Jayne's back, being sure not to put any undue pressure on the right shoulder.

"Just look at him, ain't seem him so peaceful in the time we've known 'im, eh, Cap?" Zoe walked forward and placed sturdy arms under each of his knees while they lifted in unison to put the man back on the doctor's table.

"A real sleeping beauty," Mal grunted under the weight of the muscular man. "Could serve to lose a few pounds though." Mal turned back on Simon. "He gonna be alright, Doc?"

Simon nodded. "He'll be laid out a couple days I'd guess, not that he'll want to be. I'd suggest not mentioning to him where we're headed, might get him a little too… excitable," he coughed. "But he'll be fine."

"Anything else you'll be needin'?"

"No, that's it, thanks."

"Take care of our little angel now," Zoe snickered as her and Mal made their way back to the bridge.

Simon smiled to himself and knelt down to begin clearing up the mess Jayne had left behind when crashing into his infirmary floor. His mind remarked on it though, how serene Jayne really looked when he was blacked out. He didn't appear to be in any pain, he wasn't trying to be rough, he wasn't trying to be anything. He was at his purest, just letting his body do the work of making himself better. It was as if he were a completely different man when he slept.

"So what's best not to talk about for fears I'll get… excitable?" Jayne smiled when he saw the doctor jump at the sound of his voice. He was now sitting up – he had done so much more slowly this time. By the time the Captain and Zoe had made it to the infirmary, he was already coming to. But with the way he was feeling, he thought it best to just be still and let them float his angelic body back up to the table.

"Jayne, you're awake already."

"Don't skirt the subject, Doc, I'm feelin' a might better now and I'm pretty sure I could knock you out without even standin'," Jayne's voice didn't waver.

Simon was sure, now, that the man he'd thought he'd seen on that table was an illusion and the gruff, deceitful, and angry man he'd known was back. "I'm sure you could, but I have to warn you, your body is going to need time to recover, this isn't like any of your other injuries, you probably won't be able to lift a gun for a week – at least." Simon braced himself, he knew the man wouldn't take this well.

"Wait, a gun, my gun, where's Vera?" Jayne felt his heart begin to race faster. That gun was the only thing he had in this world – away from his Ma, of course, that meant anything at all to him. Vera was there for him no matter what, she made him feel good, she made everything better, if he'd lost Vera… he didn't know what he'd do.

Simon raised an eyebrow. This wasn't exactly the reaction he was expecting. Instead of raw anger, he noticed sheer concern and was relieved to know that the gun was, in fact, safe and sound in Jayne's bunk. "She- it's fine. Kaylee took it down to your bunk after we came in." He watched relief overcome the coarse man's face.

"Good," Jayne was glad. "If that's it Doc, I think I'll head to ma' bunk now."

"Actually," Simon slowly raised a hand, hoping it didn't get immediately swatted away. "I thought – I, and the Captain too, that we might be better off switching bunks, just for a couple days, until you can use your arm again."

"What do you mean, until I can use it again? I can use it just fine," Jayne lifted his right arm. At least he tried. His heart raced again. It wasn't moving. He could feel it, he could feel some pain, but he couldn't move it, not an inch. His brain said it was moving, that his fingers were wiggling and everything, he could almost feel it moving, too, but it sat motionless. He looked up desperately at the doctor, not sure if he should be panicking or just very, very angry.

"If there were another way I could have done it, I would, but we're short on supplies. I had to put a very temporary paralyzer in the nerve controlling the movement of your arm and most of your fingers. It was the only way I could lessen the pain at all, we haven't been able to restock on pain killers since Mal was thrown off that cliff a month ago," Simon's voice began to trail off, a new man, completely different from the one he knew, and very different from the one he'd seen on the table just a few minutes ago, was now walking toward him. In his eyes was fury, pure unadultered fury.

Jayne's left arm flew up, catching the doctor just under his jaw and lifting him onto his tip toes. "You don't never do nothin' like this ta' me," his nostrils flared. "If you get a next time, you better shootin' be sure you gots the pain killers or I'm gonna watch you take a swim in space." Jayne was furious, there was nothing that made him so furious except not being in control. And this was too much. He'd dealt with the Captain always telling him what to do, he dealt with not knowing when a job was going to go south or if they'd get paid, but the one thing he always had control of was his body and his guns. And this scrawny little doctor decided it was alright to take that away from him. Jayne burned but slowly loosened his grip and set the doctor gently on the ground. "I'll be in my… well I guess I'll be in your bunk, now. Don't bug me."

Simon sputtered, having watched his entire life flash before his eyes. He was alive, still, for the second time in two days, he'd been sure he was dead – but he turned out alive. He didn't get in the way or protest as the smelly man marched into his bed quarters and laid himself out on his freshly cleaned sheets. He just breathed then proceeded to clean up the remaining mess that had been made of his workshop. This was going to be a long few days.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Now go review if you have the heart for it

Editing note: As both chapter one and two were posted before I decided that the story was happening post-Miranda, in the third to last paragraph, Mal was put in the place of Wash as the one who had fallen from the cliff.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Not much interest in this story – but I've written it for me and no one else I'm really loving where it's going, and I hope others might find it and like it as much as I do. Slow moving, I know, but I promise, it's only because I'm doing everything in my power to keep the characters canon.

Jayne's bunk was exactly what Simon was expecting, and judging by how much he'd dreaded the thought of spending the next few nights in it, he wasn't exactly pleased by what he saw. The walls were adorned with two large posters of women dressed in little more than nothing, both holding large guns that, judging by their hollow eyes, they had no idea how to use. Not that Simon knew much about using them, but he knew well enough to know how dangerously close the blonde was to killing herself had the gun actually been loaded… or real for any matter. What stood out more than the naked women staring down at him was the repugnant smell lofting from the laundry. He supposed that he'd never actually been close enough to Jayne after a workout or heavy lifting to even notice that he reeked so tragically. He could have only speculated and this was much worse.

Trying to ignore the stench, Simon worked his way to the small wash basin, filling it only slightly He tried not to think of what disgusting microbials might be living in it as he used a clean rag from his own bunk to clean the day's dirt off of his face. He grabbed his shaving kit and took to the task of cleaning off what little facial hair had managed to grow in during the hectic day. When that was finished, all that was left was to say a little prayer and to go to sleep. He stared down the mattress and knelt down beside it. Among the things he prayed about, he also kindly asked that he not get ill from the unknown sources living in the bed he was about to sleep in. That finished, he crawled in under the sheets, turned out the light, and closed his eyes.

And he waited. And waited. The ugly thoughts of lice and dead skin and... bodily fluids made Simon shiver under his skin. Just as he had concluded that this definitely wasn't going to happen, he heard a light tapping on the hatch to the bunk. He listened.

"Doc," whispered Jayne's voice. "Doc, you down there?"

Simon sat up straight. "What's wrong, are you alright?" He was moving now toward the ladder.

"I'm fine, I was just uh… wonderin'… if you might uh… toss me up my gun. The small blue pistol," Jayne's voice seemed a bit uneasy. In fact, he was uneasy. He couldn't remember the last night he'd spent without a gun. There was something about having a pistol locked and loaded that gave him just the comfort he needed to fall asleep. Not to mention the doc's room was neat and stuffy and he wasn't one bit comfortable laying there between sheets that smelled like soap. There was something just not right about the doc.

"Why, is there something wrong? Are we getting boarded?"

"No, just… it'll help me sleep better."

Simon relaxed. "Yeah, uh, sure, the small blue pistol?" Simon lifted up the sheet guarding Jayne's collection and found the one Jayne was talking about. It looked old but well loved, oddly, and Simon only ran one finger across is as he prepared to hand it up the ladder. "Anything else you need?"

"That's fine, I'll make ya a list tomorrow," Jayne exhaled as he felt his dear Persephone fall into his hand. It was his first gun ever, his Ma had bought it for him when he was eight. He figured she'd felt guilty that year, seeing as how his father had left, so that when he begged her for his very own pistol, she just didn't have the heart to deny him. This pistol wasn't a very powerful one, could hardly kill a man, but it could sure do some damage if aimed in the right places. Jayne turned, closing the latch and returning to his temporary bunk.

He sat down on his new bunk and set Persephone down on his leg. Lifting his shirt, he used his good arm to clean off a spot of a finger print that he was sure only Simon could have left on it. He grunted as the print refused to budge. 'Dirt,' he thought. 'Dirt is easy to clean off, just don't trust that man, don't trust a man who keeps his hands all lotioned and shit.' He concluded that he would have to get his gun cleaner fetched tomorrow to get the nasty doctor residue off his beloved piece. He distantly regarded Vera and wondered if she'd suffered the same fate.

Momentarily satisfied by having his gun back in his hands, Jayne laid back down, pulling the sheets up over his arm and cradling Persephone between his left hand and his chest. Now that was better. Except for the gorram smell. At the very least, he tried to reassure himself, it would only take a day or two before his own smell would settle in and maybe even by that time he'd be back in his own bunk.

Sleep still illusive, Jayne reached into his pants pocket, glad to find that his most recent letter from his ma was still in there. He pulled it out and unfolded it carefully, so as to not tear it at the folds. He looked over it again.

_My dear Jayne, I haven't heard from you in months, you're starting to get a poor mother worried for you. The last I heared from you was back in October when you said you might be making it out here to see me. I'm supposing that never happened since it's nearly May and I still haven't seen yous. Now I know it's hard to write to me sometimes, I know you get scared about your letters and all, but your Ma didn't raise a coward, so you just suck it up and write your Momma back now. Not like I care one bit bout your letters and spelling, just would be nice to know you're alive once in a while. Anyway, dear, your momma misses you. I knit you up a scarf here, in case it gets too cold out there in space. You stay warm now. Love you and miss you, Momma._

Jayne regarded it and felt his eyes get a bit wet. She was right though. And he knew it. Once he could use his arm again, he'd have to write her. Tell her he was alright. And he needed to talk to the Cap. See if they could make it back to his home soon. He missed her too, but he wouldn't tell anyone that. A part of him always lived at home, and it was only there that he ever felt whole. Eyes a bit misty, he carefully folded the letter back up and set it by his bedside. He curled up and it didn't take long before the day's tolls had finally made him pay and he fell quickly asleep.

oooOOOooo

Much to his surprise and three days later, Simon found himself waking up from a rather deep sleep, his eyes adjusting to the surroundings he knew to be Jayne's room. He took a deep breath in his nose and was surprised to find he didn't find the stink as assaulting as it was the night before. It was surprising, he mused, how four nights without the man adding to the stench could make such a difference. Simon stretched as he stood, trying to avoid eye contact with the busty redhead on the wall. He sauntered to the wash basin, followed his procedure of washing his face, collected his few belongings and ascended the ladder.

He wasn't exactly looking for anything as he climbed up and that explains why he was so surprised when he felt something similar to the force of a small cargo ship slam itself into his left arm. His fingers tingled as he looked up to see Jayne beaming with delight as he flexed his right arm. Simon coughed.

"Ya see that, Doc? Good as new, told ya I could almost feel it yesterday, didn't I?" Jayne wiggled his fingers some more, delighted to see them responding so well to his every thought. "Don't even hurt none," he grinned. Three days – three long and excruciating days had passed with him not being able to use his arm. It was back now, back with a vengeance and Jayne was sure glad he could use it for the first time to lay a decent hurting on the doctor.

"I don't know much about seeing it better, but I sure can feel it." It was going to leave a bruise, a very decent one. Simon waited impatiently for the feeling to return to his fingers and for his eyesight to clear of the tiny bright specks sparking across his vision. Letting the moment pass, Simon looked up to Jayne hoping more than anything to not see him winding up to demonstrate his progress further. He was relieved to see that he was not, and instead was staring at him somewhat impatient for something. "Um, is there something else I can do for you?" Simon asked.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to spend some time in my bunk," Jayne winked, making Simon's stomach lurch only slightly. He supposed he should be glad that Jayne had not taken to such activities while sleeping in his clean quarters. Simon stepped out of the way.

"Just, if you could stop by the infirmary later so I can clean your bandaging, that would be nice," Simon could barely finish his sentence as the hatch to Jayne's bunk closed with a soft bang.

AN: Read and review if you liked it (or if you didn't, or if you like puppies, or the color green, or fluffy bath towels, or B-list movies, or grizzly bears).


	4. Chapter 4

AN: If I hadn't said it already, I don't own Firefly and Joss Whedon is a god. Thanks for the reviews, this fic is actually turning into quite a fun project for me.

"Ladies," Jayne smiled, enjoying the privacy of his bunk that he'd missed so much. "Stephanie, Lisa," he blew kisses to the two scanty women on his wall. "Man, I missed this place," Jayne fell backwards onto his bunk. He really had missed it. It's hard to have a place to call home when you're always on a ship traveling places. But if there were one place he would call home – aside from his home with his Ma, it was here in this room. It smelled like home, it felt like home, and it even sounded more like home. His bunk was nested adjacent to the engine room and the soft hum of the turning turbines had become something of a calming device for him. The doc's room had been much too quiet. He was glad to be home. He didn't waste time in unbuttoning his pants.

Simon was glad to be able to return his things to his own room now. He hadn't set much of a foot inside there, afraid he might find that the oaf had made it somehow into something more like his own. He was relieved to find that the only remnant left of the towering man was the smell. Simon made a mental note of how he would have to change the sheets before day's end. He looked forward to sleeping in his own sheets tonight, free of the accosting reek of one Jayne Cobb. Simon lazily set his shaving kit on his bedside table and would have never noticed the piece of paper fluttering onto the ground had his senses not been incredibly heightened after his recent surprise beating. He bent down to pick it up. Not recognizing it at all, he opened it and, scanning it quickly, realized it was a letter to Jayne from his ma. Afraid that at any moment Jayne might sneak up behind him, poised with a large blunt object with which to maim him for reading the letter, Simon carefully folded the paper back up and turned to return it to the frightening man as quickly as possible.

Jayne had just finished… his bunkly business when he heard a light rapping at his hatch. Buttoning his pants quickly and tossing a tissues into the trash can, he shouted up at the intruder. "What do ya' want?"

"It's Simon, I found something in my room, I think it's yours," Simons voice was shaking, terrified of what Jayne might do if he thought he'd read it.

Jayne stood and beat the hatch release, looking up the ladder at the clean doctor. He could see in Simon's hand the small piece of paper that he'd taken to reading every night for the past month. "Hand it down then."

Simon's eyes surrendered his shock. "Yeah, sure, here it is." He'd gotten off easy, and he thanked his lucky stars he was still walking.

"You didn't read it, did ya?" Jayne's eyes narrowed at the surprised looking doctor.

Simon played cool. "Yes, Jayne, because I have nothing better to do with my time than to read random notes left lying around the ship," he growled back at the man and, in a brave turn of events turned promptly and walked away. His legs were still shaking though when he heard the large man begin to ascend up the ladder.

"Hey Doc!" Jayne shouted after him, sounding a bit more vicious than he'd intended. He was Jayne Cobb, though, and it's not like he had to try to sound menacing, it was a gift, really, and he bore it remarkably well. He watched the doctor turn defiantly. "Tell the cap that I'm having breakfast in my bunk – doctor's orders," he challenged the doctor.

"Yes, fine, whatever Mr. Cobb, is there anything else I can do for you?" his sarcastic tone hid the tremor in his voice. He hoped that Jayne would say no, but to be honest, he actually genuinely cared to help. The man had saved his life, afterall.

"As a matter of fact," Jayne began to approach the doctor quickly. "You can take your psychotic brain of a sister and get the hell off this ship," Jayne was now eye to eye with the doctor – waiting for a reaction. Waiting for the fear that he worked so hard to rise out of even the best.

"I suggest you watch what you say from now on before I come up with a good reason to tell the Captain that a full body paralyzer was necessary to help you heal up the rest of the way. Remember, Jayne, I may be a scrawny little piss ant, as you'd call me, but I'm a scrawny piss ant that with one injection can convince you that you're a pretty nancy girl who likes to play with bunnies. So ask yourself, is this really an altercation that you want to get involved in? Or are you just going to turn back around and crawl into that filth of a hole you call your home?" Once again, Simon felt as though his heart had stopped. It didn't matter how many times he confronted Jayne with threats of his undoing, it terrified him every time.

Jayne's nostrils flared. He couldn't stand this weasel. This impish creep with his stupid medicine – not to mention the all-knowing sister of his. Jayne's eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at the well-dressed (insert word here that's mean). "Watch where ya step, little man," Jayne turned on his heel and marched back to his bunk, angry that he couldn't get a rise out of the cretin. Flexing his renewed strength, he took a moment to slam a closed fist into the wall before climbing down the ladder. He was sure it hurt, but he couldn't feel it through his anger. He wished the damned pest would just die.

oooOOOooo

Simon would never admit to having any sort of concern for the rough man called Jayne. Factually though, he was very concerned about the progress of the wound. If it got infected, Simon feared the worst. The pain that would go along with repairing the kind of damage that infection that deep would be hard even for the toughest of men to bear. He was quite certain, too, that if it came to it, and he needed to use the paralyzer again, he wouldn't live through the week. So that's what led him to where he was now. Midday, having not seen Jayne at all since their last encounter, Simon stalked the halls of Serenity looking for his patient.

Jayne, in fact, was doing nothing of the sort of hiding. He wasn't even avoiding the doctor, he'd honestly forgotten, much too consumed with the task at hand of writing to his ma. It was true, learning had never stuck with Jayne, especially when it came to letters. He got his a's and he e's mixed up all the time, and usually got the rest of them jumbled up and backwards. His spelling was nothing fancy either. Hard to focus on spelling the word right when you're not even sure you've got the letters right. He scratched his head impatiently as he sat in the cargo bay behind a few boxes, the only place he could find enough quiet to concentrate. He'd only gotten a few lines in and already he was stumped. Add to his problems, he just didn't know what to write. He'd written his ma one time telling her about how he'd gotten stabbed on a job, and the responding letter was nothing shy of a full blown lecture on how he ought to come home where it's safe. He thought it best not to include things like that, but didn't know what to talk about otherwise. Not like he'd met any girls recently, and Inara wouldn't give him half a ride if he could pay for it. He hadn't sent her money any time recently because the past few jobs they'd had weren't profitable enough for him to have left-overs to send her way. Jayne scratched his head again.

"Jayne! There you are, I've been looking all over, what in the world are you doing hiding behind boxes?" Simon's voice cut into the concentrating air. He tapped an impatient foot and glared at the figure appearing hidden behind some cargo.

Jayne looked up startled. "I ain't hidin' ya lump! I'm writin' if it's all the same to you. Now you wanna 'splain why ya feel ya ain't gonna get hurt for comin' here screamin' at me like I owe ya somethin'?" Something about this doctor just got under his skin.

Simon checked himself. Writing? That certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. He hadn't even realized Jayne could write. He found himself mildly impressed that the man had even taken the time to learn something so… well, not entirely useful in the mercenary business. "I need to check your bandages remember? I'd asked you to stop by the infirmary so I could clean up your shoulder."

Jayne looked at his watch, realizing it was well into late afternoon and that he distantly did remember being told about cleaning the bullet hole. Jayne stared one more time at the mostly blank piece of paper, folded it up and stuffed it into his shirt pocket along with the pen he was writing with. "I ain't no kid, Doc. When I'm ready to be checked on, I'll come askin'. But since I gots nothin' better ta do right now, may as well check me over."

Together the two walked in silence to the infirmary where Jayne remained surprisingly calm through the entire inspection stopping to talk only once when Simon had picked a particularly delicate spot to pay attention to. After a short scolding, Simon went back to business, had the wound cleaned up in a jiffy and sent Jayne back on his way.

AN: Review my fic. All your friends are doing it. Only cool people give into peer pressure.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Had to toss River in a little bit, enjoy! Thank you for the reviews!

The next order of business for Simon was simple to sort out – clean his bunk of any remnant smells the older man had left behind. The bunk, as he'd noted earlier, was relatively how he'd left it. The wash basin was dirtier which left Simon wondering if the man just produced dirt. He'd sentenced Jayne to three days of as little activity as possible, he hadn't even left the ship. How, in that time, did he manage to leave a thin layer of dirt all over… everything? Simon shook it from his head. He actually didn't mind cleaning. It was something that he found a small amount of joy in. It was menial, it was easy, most importantly, he didn't have to think. Getting out of his head was a rare moment for Simon and so he didn't waste time in stripping his bed of the sheets.

"You're going to miss it," his favorite voice lofted up to his ears.

Simon turned with a smile. "What, do you assume, I'm going to miss?" He laughed at his sister and tossed the sheets at her.

"You've gotten used to it, the smell," she giggled.

"It's been a month, little sister, I'm pretty sure if I was going to miss it, I would by now." He shook his head. In fact it had been a month. And at first he did miss everything about her. Kaylee was the first woman who'd ever made his palms get sweaty and his heart beat quicken. But a month had passed and Simon was even more firm in the resolve that their agreement to not take their relationship any further was the right choice. "I cared about her, and I know you did too. But she's still around, we're still friends. If I really missed her smell, I'd just go hang out in the engine room – with or without her in there."

River stared at him and decided it was best not to push the subject any further. He'd understand eventually. Though whether he knew he was suddenly understanding what she'd told him – well that was frequently the rub. She was always right, it's just that no one ever seemed to notice that she'd been right since she was always right a whole lot sooner than people ever realized there was something to be right about. It was frustrating, but she had learned to breathe through it.

Simon could tell it bothered her. "I'll be fine." He walked up to her and punched her gently on the arm. "Besides, now that I'm not spending all my time with her, I get to hang out with you more."

"Joy for me, what I've always wanted, to spend more time with my boob of a brother," she smirked at him and gently pushed him back. It had taken her some time to perfect the gentle nudges that she gave him. The first time she'd tried, she actually managed to bruise him pretty good. So it's no wonder she panicked when he flinched at the contact. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Simon laughed. "No, it wasn't you. I'd forgotten about it. It was Jayne, he decided to demonstrate his new found ability to use his arm," Simon rubbed the tender bruise hidden under his suit.

River smiled, glad she hadn't inflicted any pain on her big brother. "I'd offer to hurt him back for you, but you don't want me to."

Simon smiled at her, shaking his head. He loved this woman so much. "Of course I'd never want you to have to hurt anyone. That's supposed to be my job, as the big brother. But I guess our family has never been very normal."

"You're not normal!" River retorted playfully, staring at him from under eyebrows. "Need help?"

"Nah, I think I got this. Seems we'll leave the heavy work up to you and the uh… matronly duties to me?" he bent over and balled up the dirty sheets. "But if you wanted to go toss these in the wash bin for me, I wouldn't stop you."

River grabbed them dutifully and nodded at him. "But I told you, you're going to miss the smell." She put extra emphasis on her last word before flitting off, carrying the ball of clothes.

The rest of the work in his room didn't take too long. He put fresh clean sheets on his bed, used a dry rag to get most of the dirt off of his belongings, and used a bit of soap to get his wash basin clean again. He smacked his hands together, satisfied by his good work and headed to the kitchen bay for dinner.

When he got there, everyone save River had already begun to eat. River sat with a distant look in her eyes, her focus seemed to be somewhere behind Jayne's head.

"Good, yer here, now could ya' please tell yer creepazoid of a sister to stop starin' at me like that. I don't want her hearin' mah thoughts and shit," Jayne stared with unease at the girl. He didn't like that she could see into his brain, that she could know things about him that he barely knew himself. He just knew that right this moment she was reading his thoughts and that she would tell everyone something embarrassing that he would have to come up with a way to deny.

"Trust me, I'm fairly certain nobody wants to hear your thoughts." To emphasize his point, he patted her on the head. "Whatcha thinkin', little sister?"

River blinked and looked up at him. "Oh, I was just listening to the stars. They're talking about love."

Simon smirked. "See Jayne, nothing to worry about. We all know she couldn't be talking about you, since you lack all ability to care or love for anything… save your guns, but I think that's a pretty different kind of love." He took a seat between River and Kaylee and proceeded to load his plate.

Jayne began to raise a fist in protest before being quickly put down by Mal. "He's right, you know. Probably listenin' in on some thoughts from Zoe," Mal smirked. "Been meanin' to tell ya that we're headed to Corpus Hei."

Zoe beamed. Corpus Hei, they hadn't stopped in there in almost eight months. She missed her baby so much and couldn't wait to hold her little boy in her arms again. Before Wash had died, Zoe had shared with him the good news that she was about five weeks along. Still a fugitive, it broke her heart when he was born, knowing she would have to leave him with family and remain in hiding and on the run. They still made stops in once in a while to see him. He was nearly two now.

He'd lie about it if anyone asked him, but Jayne never could hide his excitement when it came to little Wash. The toddler was his favorite. The way when he held the thing, it just looked up at him and smiled. It wasn't scared of him for anything. He pretended that he hated it, but never missed a chance to scoop the mini-Wash up in his arms and tickle him again and again. "Well that's alright then," Jayne's eyes were bright as he did his best to play cool. He fooled no one. They all knew that little boy had Jayne wrapped around his finger, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

AN: I'm sure there's a little upsetness as to why I didn't address the failure of Kaylee and Simon's relationship. My opinion is that were Joss Whedon to be able to continue the show, there was no way the pair would have lasted. Something would have went wrong. I'm leaving it up to everyone's imagination to decide exactly what went down as long as it ends on good terms. This is all for the sake of brevity – this fic has already turned out to be very long and it's not even half way done yet.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Slowly getting the postings caught up to where I am with the story. Still working at about 1500 words a day. Reviews are nice. I know that I'll keep writing even without them but it does mean a lot to me to know that people are reading and enjoying.

Jayne's head was still buzzing about getting to see the kid two nights later when he returned to his bunk for the night. He adored the little tyke – he had to be two now. Jayne laid down in his bunk, taking in a deep relaxing breath. He winked at the red-head on his wall and grabbed his gun. But no really, he grabbed his gun, his little pistol, and cuddled it next to his chest before closing his eyes to sleep. He took another deep breath. He turned over in his bunk. He took another deep breath. He blinked his eyes open then shut. He took another deep breath. He turned over again. Something was wrong. He opened his eyes. He listened to the hum of the engine in the room next to him. He took another deep breath. It… smelled wrong. He sniffed his pillow. It sure smelled enough like him. It smelled more like him than it had the past few nights, the doctor smell was nearly completely gone. It was back to smelling very Jayne-like. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He sat up, grumbling and tossed the sheets off of his lap. He put his pistol back away and proceeded to climb up the ladder out of his bunk.

Simon wasn't surprised when another person walked into the galley. There was always some kind of activity on the ship at night. Usually it was his sister, unable to sleep off the nightmares. He was surprised, however, when he looked up to find Jayne Cobb staring back at him. Jayne was precisely the reason Simon was still awake. Or at least that's what he figured it had to be. The man had saved his life and all Simon had done since was of course his job of bringing him back to health, and also be an obnoxious pain in Jayne's side. He had to pay Jayne back for it. He had to do something, he couldn't let a debt this large be owed to a man… that large. Simon didn't say a word to the man. He'd already learned that whenever he opened his mouth with that man around, the only thing that would happen was that some kind of insulting exchange would take place leaving Simon feeling like a jerk, once again, for being so rude to the man who'd saved his life. Instead of speaking, he reached for the whiskey store and poured a small amount in a glass. He carried his own glass of now-cold-tea and the whiskey to where Jayne was now sitting, and offered the drink to the man.

Jayne wouldn't refuse it. Heck, had anyone ever known him, Jayne Cobb, to turn down a drink what was already poured? Jayne too, chose not to talk. He didn't have much he wanted to talk about anyway, and so he just nodded and took a sip of the strong liquid. He watched Simon take a seat a few spots away from him. The man was cradling his drink like it was a precious metal or something of that sort. He looked desperate and, if Jayne wasn't mistaken (which mind you, he frequently is), he looked tired. Like he hadn't slept in days maybe. Changing his mind, he piped up. "You wanna talk about it?"

Simon jumped when the man broke the silence. He'd admit though, he was especially on edge. "Just tired. Haven't been sleeping well," he replied, remaining civil. The question was innocent and deserved an innocent response.

"Yer bed smell funny too? I dun' know what it is, but somethin' about my bunk smells wrong," Jayne continued, trying not to let his distaste for the doctor get him riled up. If he got too excited now, there was no way he was every going to get to sleep.

Simon stared at Jayne, confused. "Um, no, just have a lot on my mind I suppose." He couldn't tell Jayne that he was lost trying to figure out what he could do to pay off his debt. "Something I doubt you could understand." He didn't mean to say it. He didn't mean for it to come out as curt as it did. But there it was and there was no taking it back. Simon kicked himself mentally for that. It was unnecessary. He just hated the man so much.

"Right, I'm too stupid, never have nothin' on my mind to be thinkin' about and all – what with being a moron," Jayne finished off the glass in front of him and stood up. "I'll be goin' now, since I'm clearly too dim ta be joinin' ya." Jayne wasn't incredibly offended. A part of him knew it was true. Simon was a genius. He'd watched the doctor fix things on people that should never have been able to be fixed. It's not that Jayne resented Simon for being so smart. He just figured Simon never had the kinds of troubles he did, like with writing letters and such. Of course, he'd never admit that Simon was smarter than him.

Simon was left behind, biting his tongue in the galley. It didn't take him long to decide that his cold tea was doing him no good and that he should just get back to his bunk and do his pondering there. That way he'd be sure not to run into anyone else and accidentally insult them. He fell onto his bed and took a deep breath. He pondered, sniffed the air and shook his head. His bed didn't smell funny. Nothing about it smelled funny, it was the perfect clean sheets that he'd put on a few days ago. He brushed his hand across his pillow, stopped, then sat bolt upright. His sheets, they were the perfect clean. Maybe that's all he needed to do. Maybe he could sleep again. Maybe, just maybe, if he washed Jayne's sheets for him, it would at least begin to repay Jayne for his unintentional kindness. That was it. It might not be perfect, but it was something, and it should at least be enough to get him back to sleeping. He laid back down and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He opened his eyes again. Well… maybe it wouldn't kick in until he actually did it. He stared at the ceiling the rest of the night, excited that he'd come up with something and hopeful that, once he did that something, he'd be able to sleep at night again.

oooOOOooo

Simon was sure no one would find him. The last he'd seen, Jayne was working out, and Kaylee, Zoe, and Mal were playing a game of Chinese checkers. He remembered the pad lock that Mal had given him to get into Jayne's bunk when he was still sleeping there. He hoped they hadn't changed the combination and was relieved when the hatch popped open. He tossed the satchel he was carrying down the hatch and silently climbed down the stairs. With a graceful start, he then fell the entire length of the ladder onto his bum. He looked up to see what had startled him so much and caught two familiar eyes staring back at him.

"The ladder is there so you don't fall," River smiled down at him.

Simon stood up slowly rubbing his lower back. "Don't you have better things to do than go around scaring your brother?" he looked up at her.

"Sure, but they're not half as much fun," she giggled. "What are you doing, anyway?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Like you don't already know?" He began to collect the sheets off of Jayne's bed.

"I know what you're doing, but I was curious if you knew what you were doing. I can hear all your thoughts, big brother, even the ones you can't."

Simon shook his head again. Riddles again. "My own thoughts that I can't hear? Are you sure you're not going a little crazy?" He winked at her and was delighted to hear her giggle back. "Here, take these, would ya?" He tossed the sheets up at her, catching a strong wiff of Jayne settled into the fibers of the cloth. A strong sense of fatigue swept over him. Maybe it was working already. He opened the satchel and proceeded to spread the fresh sheets over the mercenary's bed, trying to make it look as messy as it had been before. Satisfied with his work he walked to the ladder and climbed up, meeting his sister at the top. "You're not going to tell anyone now, are you?"

River laughed and pushed the sheets into Simon's arms. "Tell anyone what?" She was being honest, but gave him a response he wanted to hear. Of course she wouldn't tell anyone that Simon was about to go pass out, unceremoniously on the galley couch, his face buried in a pile of dirty sheets he'd confiscated from Jayne's room. She also wouldn't tell anyone that she was right when she told him he'd miss it. That the reason he hadn't been sleeping the past few nights is because his bed did smell funny – it was clean, and Simon was missing the odorous affair in Jayne's bunk. But she wouldn't tell. They would figure it out on their own. She smiled to herself and trotted off.

"Where are you going now?" Simon called after her.

"To see what his thoughts have to say!" she tweeted and was out of site

Simon felt weak, his lack of sleep catching up to him. He turned into the galley and decided he could take a quick moment to sit on the couch and regain his resolve – and to finish washing these sheets – and to find a way to avoid blame if Jayne found out about what had been done and was angry about it – and to…. Face buried in the pile of dirty sheets, Simon found himself well beyond the world of the living, and drifting along in a dream where he couldn't be touched.

AN: I'm slowly but surely getting better. Bear with me. This is the experiment round – as I said before, I haven't written anything in close to three years. I'm loving how it's going though Remember to review – especially if you liked it, but also if you sometimes prefer eating cookie dough than actually going through the process of baking cookies.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: To all who have stuck it out this far – a huge thanks. I can't even begin to explain how excited I get to see the numbers tick up. No one's review but a lot are reading and that actually makes me get all fuzzy on the insides. So yeah – that's it, fuzzy insides.

Simon took a deep breath. And exhaled, relaxed and content. He didn't remember getting back to his bunk, but he was relieved to have gotten some sleep. He stretched out his arms and slowly opened his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he felt the incredible feeling of pride in himself for having managed to solve the problem that had been bothering him for the past few nights. He'd found a small way, at least, to help repay his debt to the mercenary. A figure moved out of the corner of his eye and he blinked to focus faster. He expected River, as she was the only one who ever went into his bunk. He wondered how long he'd been asleep.

"There he is," a high-pitched voice piped at him.

Simon shook his head to see Kaylee sitting in a chair next to him. "Kaylee," he yawned. "What are you doing in here?" He scratched his head.

"Last I checked t'weren't no rule sayin' I couldn't sit in the galley," she giggled at him.

"What do you?" His eyes focused. He looked around. He was in the galley. The last thing he remembered was sitting down before he went to wash… the sheets. He looked down to find that his arms were still tightly wrapped around the stolen goods. "I – what time is it?"

Kaylee smiled. "It's a bit after five, honestly, doc, ain't ever known ya ta fall asleep quite like that. Ya looked so peaceful and stuff," she lifted a book back up to read it. "Didn't wanna wake ya." She was being honest. She'd slept next to him a few times in the past year but he always looked so troubled when he slept. He looked like he had nightmares all the time, and no matter what she'd tried in the past, he never did quite look rested when he woke up in the morning.

Simon rubbed his eyes, still trying to sort out what exactly had happened. He must have fallen asleep. Changing Jayne's sheets must have been just what he needed to do to ease his mind.

"It's gettin' close ta mess time," Kaylee inserted. "Ya might wanna go stash those 'fore anyone else comes up and sees 'em. Honestly doc, don' know what yer up ta, but only one folk on this ship can manage to smell quite so awful as them sheets there – an' I don' wanna know why but I sure am concerned 'bout what might happen to ya' if'n he finds ya with 'em." Kaylee figured not quite the worst. She figured that Simon had accidentally done something to Jayne's sheets while he was sleeping in them and that he was now trying to cover up his tracks. He was doing a pretty awful job of it considering he'd fallen asleep with the evidence in clear light.

Simon looked up at her again, a small spark of panic present when he realized just what she'd meant. Jayne might be there any minute and Simon surely didn't want to get caught red-handed with his sheets until he knew for sure how the big man would be taking it. He gathered up the sheets and started to the door. He stopped and turned back to look at Kaylee. "Thanks." He said before turning again.

Unfortunately for him, when he turned, he ran, sheets-first, into a tall, rough man who made Simon quiver to the very core. The look on his face was deceptive. Inside he was terrified, on the outside, he simply stared, looking as cool as he could and waiting to see what the response might be.

"Watch where yer' goin', Doc," Jayne shoved Simon out of his way and proceeded to the table. He was so happy to be using his arm again that he'd probably worked out longer than he should have – he was starving by the time he'd showered and changed clothes. "Where's the captain? What's fer dinner?" He stared at Kaylee, expecting she would know and when she didn't respond he simply shook his head. "Two warm meals a day, that's all I ask for," he began to mumble, not even noticing how startled the other two people in the room were.

Simon was still standing there like a deer in the headlights when he realized that Jayne hadn't even noticed for half a second exactly what he was doing. When the bigger man began to rummage through the cupboards, Simon took that opportunity to make an exit. Not having time to toss the sheets in the wash, he simply carried them down to his room and tossed them on his bed.

oooOOOooo

Having spent half the day sleeping, Simon was surprised to find himself wide awake come the night. He stalked Serenity's halls looking for something to read that he hadn't already read a hundred times. He remembered that Kaylee had been reading a book earlier and wondered if she'd left it in the galley. He took a moment to pass by the bunks, taking a moment to stop and listen. Down in his bunk, he could hear Jayne snoring. Jayne must not have noticed that his sheets were changed – and better yet, he was sleeping. It must have worked. Simon tried not to think on how a smell that could identify only one man had managed to make itself a "funny" smell to its owner. It had worked and that was all that mattered. Simon would go to bed himself soon, but he had to get tired first.

He finished his walk to the galley and plopped himself down on the couch. He checked the end table and found the book that Kaylee was reading. It had been on he'd given her a few months ago. It was a medical book about neurological phenomena. He'd given it to her when she started asking more about River. Kaylee and River had become very close friends but Kaylee was still, rightfully, afraid that she might do the wrong thing or say something that would cause River to lose herself. So he'd given her one of his early level course books that addressed different ideas of diseases like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Paranoid Schizophrenia. He figured it might help her at least to understand that there isn't always a way to stop an episode from happening, but there are different ways to deal with it.

Even though he already knew just about everything the book had to offer, he hadn't actually read it much in the past couple of years so he figured it wouldn't hurt. In the early chapters it addressed anger disorders and possible triggers for sudden outbursts of extreme anger. He smiled to himself and thought of Jayne. That man was just born angry, he mused to himself. He kept reading though. The passages address how childhood trauma could cause someone to grow up not knowing better ways to cope with pain and hurt. They talked of how children who lose their parents at a young age have the potential to channel their hurt in a variety of different ways. Usually if the way in which they lost their parent was violently, they would spend a large portion of time dwelling on that emotion and environment. This time spent dwelling could manifest itself in later years as the need for aggression to deal with difficult situations.

Simon had no clue about Jayne's childhood but still brushed it off. The way that man hung on to his Ma like she was a saint – clearly his childhood couldn't have been so traumatic. Later chapters discussed learning disorders also associated with early childhood trauma. He read about how sometimes, when the brain goes through that sort of experience, it will actually alter the way the brain perceives things including words and numbers. Simon could feel himself starting to get tired and he was glad for it. He folded shut the book and laid it back on the stand so that Kaylee could return to her reading at her leisure.

Still a little curious, Simon took the chance to once again listen in over Jayne's hatch. The man was still snoring. He found himself passively curious. Did the man look as innocent when he slept naturally as he had when he was blacked out in pain? If a man was able to be so calm in his subconscious when he was in excruciating pain, he wondered what he would look like when his body was back to normal.

"You sure are a weird one, Doc," Kaylee again, was the one to pull him back into reality.

Simon stood up straight, he hadn't realized he'd pressed his ear to the man's bunk, trying to listen better and see if he could formulate a mental picture of the violent man sleeping… with his gun. "Kaylee," he managed.

"Nope… don' wanna know, Doc. I always figgered what goes on in yer head ain't nothin' I can even begin ta understand anyway. Don' matter how curious I am, figger tain't worth gettin' all confused about now," she patted his shoulder and walked away.

Simon was embarrassed and was glad to know that the dim lights of the hallway didn't deceive his reddened cheeks. Knowing it was best to just not try to explain to Kaylee what he was doing snooping on the mercenary's bunk, he returned to his own, washed and shaved his face, then sat down on his bed. He'd nearly forgotten the bed sheets he'd thrown in there earlier. Not wanting to deal with them now, he shoved them into the corner of his bed, curled up with his pillow and fell into a very light sleep. At one point in the night, his subconscious reached up and pulled the sheets to chest, took a deep breath, and sent him back into that deep sleep he'd experienced earlier that day.

AN: I know things are moving slowly, but I kind of like it, lets me relax Review if you like cupcakes!


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Very short update, I apologize. It's just that this part of the story was written at the same time as the short fic "Sunset" was written – and so I got 1500 words in that day across the two of them. The next chapter is pretty stellar so please stick around!

"Healthy as a two-year old," Simon smiled at Zoe as he pulled the small boy's shirt back down.

"Thanks again, Simon, it's hard to find physicians out here to look after him. What do I owe you?" Zoe picked up the toddler and nuzzled his belly.

Simon shook his head, almost offended. "Please, Zoe, what kind of uncle would I be if I charged for looking after my favorite kid in the 'verse?" Simon ran his hand through Hoban's red hair, eliciting a smile from the young one. His family had been concerned because he didn't seem to be talking much. "As far as I can tell, he's fine. He understands everything he should at his age, it appears that the only reason he's not talking is that he, surprisingly, doesn't feel like it."

Zoe laughed. "Oh really now? Well, you might be a spitting imp copy of your father, but you certainly don't keep that in common with him." She was beaming. It broke her heart in some ways that Wash couldn't be here to experience the joy of raising the child that he'd wanted so badly, but that heartache would pale in comparison to how full her heart was when she held that little boy in her arms. She kissed him on the forehead.

"Is there a postal office in town? I was hoping I'd be able to pick up some correspondence, see if there's any news updates on the status of a couple of known criminals," Simon, of course, referred to himself and his sister.

"Yeah, of course," Zoe lead Simon out of the room and into the waiting room where the rest of the crew was currently cozied up and enjoying a rare moment of tranquility. Zoe set Hoban down on the ground and the toddler quickly went to work crawling into the lap of his favorite person in the world. "If it weren't so damn cute, I'd be really concerned about his liking you so much, Cobb."

"Kid don't know what he's doin, just likes the hat," Jayne pretended to be bothered as the kid climbed up onto him, taking the chance to play with the strings that hung off the side of his hat. "See?" Again, Jayne wouldn't admit it, but this kid was cute. When everyone else was afraid of him, the kid would laugh. When he was just a baby, Jayne tried to scare him and the baby just looked up at him, laughing hysterically. At first it bothered him, but not anymore. The danged kid had grown on him.

"I'm headed into town to check the post store. Did you want me to take that letter you were writing in?" Simon nodded at Jayne expecting to have the letter thrown at his face or something equally violent that would result in Hoban's maniacal and contagious laughter.

"Nah," Jayne was busy staring at the kid in front of him.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm headed there anyway." He offered, still trying to come up with any way he could to make it up to the man for saving his life.

"I said no." Jayne stared Simon down. The fact of the matter being that he'd tried. He'd really tried so hard but he wasn't able to finish the letter yet. Sure he'd had plenty of time, but it was the letters. He was struggling – and it'd been so long since he'd written a letter, he was struggling more than usual. At first he tried using his Ma's letter to help him when he couldn't spell a word right or when he forgot how a letter was supposed to be shaped. But it just got frustrating when he had to go back for every word. He'd given up. The letter he started laid crumpled in the receptacle bin of his bunk.

Simon looked at Jayne quizzically. "Alright then, anyone else want to come?" Simon was talking to no one. Hoban had taken this moment to start giggling and jumping back and forth from Jayne to River and back again on the couch. The entire room became a captive audience to the exchange. Simon could only smile and walk out of the room.

AN: This one really is just a chapter to move us along to the next part – and also I really wanted to give baby Hoban some face time. I should also mention that I never read or got into the comics. I was under the impression that Zoe does end up having a kid but it's a girl – but I really don't care. I wanted a baby Wash!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Thanks for those who have kept reading, it means a lot! Review if you remember

By the time Simon returned to the small plantation on the outskirts of the town of Hei-Mun (I really don't know any other languages and it's so much work right now to look them up to think of creative names), dinner was ready to be served. This was the only place that the entire crew really seemed to get along. Zoe sat on one end of the table holding the toddler in her lap and getting as many kisses and cuddles out of him as she possibly could. Mal and Kaylee sat at the other end of the table laughing to each other over something – Simon didn't know what. Even Jayne and River were civil as they sat next to each other taking turns commenting on some new adorable thing that Hoban had just done. Zoe's nephew and his mother, Zoe's sister-in-law sat across the table from Jayne and River. This left a spot between the nephew, Rajha, and Kaylee.

Simon silently claimed his seat, smiling and content. Corpus Hei had become something of a second home for him. He knew he could never return to his home and his family, that this was the best he was going to get. He did sometimes miss home. He thought of his mom and dad often. He wondered how they were, if they thought about him or his sister. He missed them, despite the way he'd been treated. Despite the way they'd denied that River could be in any sort of trouble, he still cared. He took a moment to think about how their lives might be right now had the academy River had gone to was an actual academy where they trained her to be a secret agent of some sort or another – instead of turn her into an assassin.

He pictured the four of them around a dinner table, he'd just been promoted to lead doctor in the neurological division at St. Andrew's Hospital on the core planet of Greban. River was home from school, talking excitedly about the classes she was taking and about how stupid her professors were. Mom and Dad listened quietly, smiling to themselves – so proud of their children and lost in marital bliss. In a few years, River would have married and a pair of twins were passed around the table. She'd named one Simon and the other River because they apparently made great names for siblings. Little Simon would gurgle up at his uncle, eyes full of curiosity. He'd be brilliant.

Another few years and the tykes would be joined by another addition, another little girl, Tianana. The twins were five, talking in full sentences and full of stories. Little River, the outgoing one, would plot war strategies and pull her reluctant brother along to serve as her first lieutenant. When she wasn't looking though, his namesake would slip away and crawl up on the couch with him, a book in haul. They sit and read for hours until little River would realize that she was one soldier short and demand his return to duty lest he be tried for going awol. Of course, he'd go with her, no point in upsetting his favorite sister.

River's husband would be a government agent who when asked about work would simply reply that he wasn't allowed to discuss classified information with civilians. This would make River blush with pride. She would be happy. She would be whole. And he would have her in his life – all of her.

"You still with us, Doc?" Mal's voice broke his trance.

Simon blinked and looked around the table again, Rajha was trying to pass him a bowl of steamed broccoli. He nervously accepted the broccoli and, from over the bowl, could see River's eyes glued to him, small pools of water sat in the corners of each.

She'd seen it all too and it was beautiful. She longed for a world like that, where Simon was happy. From the day he'd rescued her, she'd been sure of one thing – he would never be happy again without his sister – all of her. River tried so hard every day to be the whole sister that had left him those years ago, but she couldn't be her any more. They had taken that away from her and they had taken that away from him. He could never be happy and that broke her heart. She knew he didn't blame her, but a twinge of guilt wouldn't stop itself from manifesting in her conscious. She felt his next thoughts, knowing he knew that she knew. He tried to hide them from her but it was no use. He tried to think of nothing but a face showed up instead. She looked at the man sitting next to her. She looked back at Simon. Perhaps his happiness wasn't so impossible. Maybe he could be happy some day.

Simon looked away, embarrassed that he had surrendered his mind to thoughts like that so easily. That he had been able to be pulled away into such a fantasy when his sister was so near. When he was with her he always tried to hide what he was thinking from her, he didn't want her to worry about him. She knew what he'd been thinking and he hoped that she wouldn't hate him for it. When she smiled back at him he was relieved. She was pretty much the best sister in the world.

Jayne was oblivious to the whole exchange. For one matter, it had taken place in a very short and subtle matter of time that no one really noticed at all, and for another matter, he was far too distracted by the two year old reaching up to hold his hand. Every time that little boy held his hand, a completely different world came into view. Where before the only future he could imagine was one where he died at the hands of another criminal, he saw a future where he'd made his Ma proud.

Jayne's Ma had always been a tough woman. She was about as chincy with her love as she was with her money. No one could ever doubt for a moment that her children were her world, but the way she showed it would sometimes leave a child wanting. When Jayne broke the rules he got a solid paddle against his rump. When he was caught beating up other children, he got a firm scolding and sent to his room without dinner. When he did poorly in school, he'd be grounded for a week – at least at first. It didn't take long, he remembered, for it to become clear that schooling just wasn't Jayne's forte. No matter how he tried, he could never get it right. After about a year of frequently grounding, Jayne's mother gave up on the punishment and simply accepted that her son was not a school-wiz.

After that, his mother seemed to also give up on any hope that Jayne wouldn't follow in his father's footsteps and become an outlaw. The paddling became less severe, the scoldings less frequent. It was as if she recognized that those activities would be all he had to prepare himself for the life of crime he would later lead. That didn't mean he ever stopped loving him. She still tried to care for him like he was an innocent child. She still sent the hats, she still sent the cards. She still missed him and prayed for his safety.

Jayne pictured how different his life could have been. He pictured himself in school, never missing a letter, never getting his number backward. In his mind, he excelled. He never got paddled because he never broke the rules. He never needed to get into fights, and he never got a week's worth of grounding due to poor schoolwork. His mother would greet him every day with a huge smile and a plate full of warm supper. He would go on to become some smart person who made a lot of money. He would take care of her, buy her a big home. And he would be able to afford companions the likes of Inara to wear on his arm at fancy dances. His Ma would be proud. And that would make him happy. He didn't care if he never got to shoot anyone or bully lunch money out of the kids at school, as long as she was proud of him he'd be happy.

The broccoli was now being pushed into Jayne's hands as he returned from the daydream he'd allowed himself to fall in to. Behind the bowl were the two large eyes of the reader he'd forgotten was sitting next to him. He suddenly felt naked. He felt as though she were looking right through him.

And the fact was, she was reading him. She could feel his pain of being set aside as the child who would become a criminal. She could feel his excitement rise as he thought of how he might make her proud. But what stood out the most was the frustration. Every time Jayne thought about reading and math, a sort-of cloud washed over his memories. She couldn't see those memories, she couldn't read the words, they were blurry and backwards. Numbers seemed to disappear right before her eyes. There was something in his brain that was distorting those images. One thing she could tell though, was that he wasn't doing it on purpose. River handed over the broccoli receiving a threatening scowl from the man. One more image stuck out in her mind. When Jayne imagined himself a smart man who made a lot of money, he had imagined himself a doctor, dressed just like Simon.

She smiled again. Perhaps the rude man didn't hate his brother after all. It wasn't hate that she felt from him. It was resentment – and envy. She made the mental note at this point to concentrate on her food. Mal had talked to her many times about how people didn't like it when she read their thoughts, that it felt like an invasion on their privacy. It was just that their thoughts had been so loud. She distracted herself with her food and with the entertain antics of the toddler a couple seats down from her. She resolved that she would spend time thinking about the thoughts she had heard later – when less people were around to make noises in her head.

AN: It's really helpful in a story like this to have a mind reader… it's almost like cheating – but I'm so okay with it! Review if you like icecream!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Just moving the story along. Stick with me here, it's actually been very difficult to get this romance started. First I have to get them to respect one another, to trust one another, then to be friends, then and only then can the romance begin – and then there are even more obstacles to pass when we get there. I appreciate all the reviews, it's incredibly special for me to know that others may be enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

Sleepless, again. A frustrated Simon stalked the halls, landing himself in the galley once again. This had to stop. He'd thought he solved the problem when he changed Jayne's sheets but apparently that wasn't even close to enough. Not to mention he had other things on his mind right now too. They'd just picked up a job moving some Alliance clothing fabric to Durintrel – where Inara was now living. It always frustrated him to see her, knowing there was nothing he could do to change the course of the world. Focus. He tried to focus on one thing at a time. First he would solve this problem with Jayne. Being perfectly honest, he knew he'd already done everything he could think of with Inara – but it didn't stop bothering him. There was no focus to be had. His mind jumped from Jayne to Inara back to Jayne again and occasionally to River just for old sport's sake.

Letting out a deep sigh he tried once again to focus. For starters, he should change Jayne's sheets again. The man hadn't made a late night appearance in the galley since their last exchange. He tapped at the table with his free hand and sipped tea with the other. But what more? What more could he do. The man had saved his life – even if it wasn't on purpose and even if he didn't want anyone to know it had been done. It's not like he could build a statue to his great deeds – that had already been done once. Two statues would probably get boring. He stopped himself. What in the world was he going on about any way? This was Jayne Cobb he was thinking about – idolizing even. Jayne Cobb, the man he hated pretty much more than any other living being in the 'verse and also some of the dead ones. Simon reminded himself – he was repaying a debt, not immortalizing a god. He took another sip of tea, thought about the gin stored up in the galley, took another sip of tea, finished his cup of tea, and walked over to the cupboards to rummage for gin.

Simon didn't drink much. It was hard knowing that at any moment his services might need rendering. He didn't like to think he was the only one who could do what he did on this ship, that in a moment of weakness he might find himself unable to perform. One drink couldn't hurt though. Besides, everyone was asleep, he could have a little drink, go to bed, and be perfectly sober in the morning – no one was going to die overnight. He wrapped his hind around the gin and shakily pour himself a glass. He was so wrapped up in thoughts that he was, once again, caught off guard when a large hand intercepted the glass from his grasp.

Jayne couldn't sleep. The smell was back and he couldn't figure out what it was. He'd checked his laundry, his waste basket, his bed, everything smelled the way it was supposed to – just like him. That's what brought him here now. He figured that a little bit of rum might black out his senses well enough that he wouldn't even notice. And that's what brought him in at the perfect time to see Simon pouring himself a cup from the bottle of gin they'd stored away. Gin would do.

"You sure about that doc?" Jayne scooped up the cup of gin before Simon could get his hands on it. "The way I see it is bein' a doc an' all – the only one we's got, you should probably be thinkin' twice about gettin' yerself loopy. I, on the other hand, am just a humble mercenary. Let me get a little buzz and I reckon I actually do my job a little better," Jayne sipped at the cup, letting the warm gin sooth his throat… in the burning fashion that gin likes to do.

Simon shook. He was tired, he was weak, he was frustrated. This probably wasn't the best time to push his nerves. Fortunately, the tired won out. "Just pouring it for you, apparently," he retreated. He didn't want to fight, he didn't have the energy for it, so he just followed Jayne to the table and sat down across from him. It was him to break the silence this time. "The smell back?" he questioned, curious to know if he might have actually been on to something.

Jayne nodded, not much in the mood for talking. Especially not to Simon. It was more than the smell though, he thought. There was his Ma – and the letter he was trying to write. Not to mention Inara. He didn't want to see her, didn't want to see what she was becoming. Didn't want to leave again not sure if she'd still be there when they came back again. "What's your story?" He finally persued.

Simon thought about it. He clearly wasn't going to share the part about wanting to pay Jayne back for saving his life. "Just Inara, you know? Every time we see her she's just a little worse off. I've tried everything, thought of everything and I just can't… fix it," his eyes watched his fingers tap on the table top.

"Know what you mean," Jayne agreed. "If I had your kind of learnin, I know she'd be ok. I'd fix her up right, have her back on the ship," he caught himself in a moment of tenderness. "Get her back to that planet where the pretty lady joined her, maybe even pick up some more whore jobs like that pregnant girl way back," he recovered.

Simon scoffed. Jayne? A doctor? Yeah. He didn't even attempt to hold in his chuckle. "I'm not so sure you'd be doing that job any better than me."

Jayne's pride was a pretty powerful thing and when Simon discarded his brief sentiment, it actually… hurt. He glared across the table. "What're ya tryin' to say, doc? Ain't no one in this whole 'verse big enough to be smart as you are?"

"Not at all, in fact, if size really were the manner in which intelligence was measured, you'd have the clear advantage over most the universe." It didn't even make sense. Jayne pretending like he could ever be a doctor. Jayne, the useless piece of fodder who thought a bottle of whiskey was the cure for what ailment one might have. It was almost insulting actually. Simon had trained for years and applied himself – something Jayne clearly would know nothing about. Simon struggled and worked his way to the top. He didn't know if his frustration was getting the best of him when he then blurted out. "But seeing at how all you seem to be good for is pointing a gun and pulling a trigger, there's no way an idiot like you could ever hold a flame to what I've become."

Jayne stood, proud of the fact that he caught Simon flinch, but mostly just… hurt. The man had struck a nerve in a completely different way than when he'd paralyzed one. An idiot. That's what Simon had called him. "No, that's real big of you, doc. You're right though, and don't make me remind you that I am, in fact, very good at pointin' a gun and shootin' the wormy brains out'a doctors that get too big fer their britches." Jayne swallowed the last of his gin. "I promised the Captain that I'd never turn on ya, but you just keep tryin' yer luck, little kite, ain't nothin' I can't make look like an accident." Jayne set the cup down on the table and stormed out.

Simon could only exhale in frustration. That man… he just hated him so much. Simon was sure now that there was nothing he should do to repay the man for saving his life. He was probably just saving it so that he could someday be the one to finish him off. He could picture Jayne standing over him with a gun trained on his head. He could see the grin on Jayne's face, the pure delight he would get from ending him. The man just played on his last nerve.

"You play on his, too you know?" River sat up from the couch she'd been laying on. No one had noticed her and she liked that. She had gotten to listen to the entire confrontation. She'd been laying there thinking about the things she heard the other day at dinner. She was thinking about Simon and his dream about their future without her having gone to that academy. She was particularly interested in how, through his entire dream, he'd never once imagined anything for himself. She couldn't quite work out why. And then Jayne – and the letters, the cloudy numbers, the way he'd practically admitted to his subconscious that he was… envious… of Simon. "He doesn't really hate you, big brother," she scolded. "I wonder though, why do you hate him?"

Simon was exhausted. "I don't have time for this, River, I'm tired," he pleaded. "Jayne does hate me, he hates you too. Remember when he tried to turn us in to the Alliance?" Simon was hoping it would end there.

"Sometimes," she tried. "What appears to be hatred can actually be something else. Do you truly only hate him because he hates you? That seems like a really silly reason to hate someone."

Simon exhaled in frustration. "I hate him because he's an idiot. Because he's rash and because he's a killer, how's that for reasons, River? He's not a good man. Shouldn't that be reason enough?"

River was hurt. He wasn't listening to her. She tried one more thing. "You hate him because he is an idiot? He doesn't know how to be a doctor like you? Well, my stupid big brother, do you know how to fix engines like Kaylee? Or how to fly a plane like me? You're something of an idiot if you ask me. And remember when Kaylee got kidnapped on Planet Delta? The Captain was pretty rash when he took off with the shuttle and got himself kidnapped with her in the process. Don't you agree that was pretty rash of him? Jumped into that one without thinking," she chided him.

"He's still a ruthless killer," Simon mumbled, tired, weak, frustrated, and at his end at this very moment.

River walked up to him and lifted his chin. "If being a ruthless killer is a reason to hate then why do you love me so much?" She heard nothing from Simon but silence. She was getting through to him. "What happened on Miranda changed all of us. I'm not the same person I was before. Jayne isn't the same man who turned us in all those years ago, Simon. You need to stop holding against him what he used to be and try seeing him for who he is now." River hated when things were so clear. It was painful and she could never escape that pain. She was a ruthless killer. Right now though, she needed to get away. She turned from Simon, sure that he'd gotten the message, and continued on to her place of comfort in the pilot's seat on deck.

AN: I hope this answers the question about Inara. I like the tragedy behind the idea that she was dying and I like to stick with that – also it's a great catalyst to push forward romance at any cost


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I think I will be taking weekends off for now on, thank you all for bearing with me though that excruciating time ;-) Thank you for the reviews!

Simon knew where River was this time. His back had paid for a few days following his last foray into Jayne's bunk and he didn't want a repeat this time. Jayne was working out, Zoe was asleep in her bunk, Kaylee was reading in the galley and Mal was up with River at the controls. The coast was clear and he had time as far as he could tell. He tossed the clean sheets down the hatch and proceeded to climb down behind it. He took a deep breath. Of course Jayne had a hard time sleeping in here – it reeked. Simon didn't need to waste time, he would change the sheets and that was it, take off with no one any the wiser.

He made a mental note of the condition of the bed before he stripped the bunk of its sheets. Packing them into a ball, he turned to toss them on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he noticed something. He bent over and picked it up. It was a crumbled up piece of paper. He unraveled the ball and straightened it out better to see what it was. It was a letter. At least the start of a letter. Simon squinted to read what was written: Dear Ma, Sorry I didn't writa suner. It's ban herd finding tha tine. I em fina. Hara's suma numay. The last word was scratched out and replaced by four different attempts at the word. Simon read through it a second time. The pattern looked familiar. Like something he'd seen in one of his books before. He remembered the book about childhood trauma, the part about the kids who sometimes will have a hard time deciphering between different letters. This was exactly what the book had looked like. Jayne was getting his a's and his e's confused. His m's and his n's. Perspective – sometimes the brain will perceive things differently. It had nothing to do with being taught how to write, it was just that the brain confused them.

Perspective was something Jayne was lacking at this particular moment. He'd been working out in the hold, trying to forget his frustrations from the night before, but he'd been absolutely unable to. It was still nagging at him, the letter he was trying to write. He would start out fine but then he would start to get nervous, he would second guess himself, he would look at the letter he'd just written and know it was the wrong one but when he tried to go back and write it better, he'd just write it the same way again. It was frustrating, it didn't matter how hard he tried, the letters just never came out right. But that was no excuse. He had to write to his Ma, it wasn't fair to leave her worrying about him like that. And he wanted to send her some of the money from the job they were pulling right now.

So that's what brought him to where he was now, standing in his bunk and staring at a weasely doctor who for some reason was reading his letter he'd thrown out the night before. Angry was probably a way to put lightly exactly what he was feeling. He decided that words might not be his best course of action and simply pulled back the hammer on an old pistol he kept by the hatch. That woke him up.

Simon looked up from the letter and once again, his life from the very beginning floated across his memory. This would have to be it. A man can only cheat death so many times, this was certainly the moment where he was going to die. Had he simply been caught changing the sheets, he'd have been able to pass it off as something the captain had asked him to do. But reading a private letter? No, Simon was very sure that this was the moment he was finally going to die by the hands of the mercenary. Then again, no one would ever be allowed to say that Simon Tam went out not swinging. "I understand what you must be thinking," he tried. "And I assure you, I was only here to change out your sheets for clean ones. I mentioned to the captain that you were complaining about a smell, so he asked me to come down here and change them for you, since you were never very inclined to do it yourself and he didn't want the smell getting out and keeping others awake at night too," Simon put most of this in one breath. Jayne was still very silent which frightened Simon even more, though he refused to show it. "And see, while I was pulling about the sheets, I noticed this little piece of paper – and I was going to throw it away, you see, may as well do a bit of tidying while I was down here. And I'm sure it looked like I was reading it-"

"You were reading it," Jayne finally broke the silence. "You were so in to reading it that you didn't even hear me come down the ladder," his nostrils flared a little and the gun in his hand remained trained. "You think you got any business at all comin' into my room and gettin' into my personal stuff? You really do think yer some kind of god, don't cha? Think people are just your play things, yer little puppets? Think you gots the rights to do with 'em whatever you want? You got no business in here."

"I assure you," Simon's fear was starting to show. "I wasn't reading-"

Jayne held the gun closer to Simon's head. "First you come into ma room, then you think you can lie to me in it?"

"Fine – fine!" Simon was trembling. He'd never seen Jayne this way before. The look in his eye was hollow, it was as if Jayne had taken a step out for a moment so he didn't have to worry about being held to blame for his murder. "Fine, Jayne, I read it, I did, and I'm sorry! I really am, it was just an accident though, see, I just opened it and then the letters just-"

"What about ma letters? You gonna go and tell the rest of the crew that Jayne Cobb don't know his letters?"

"No! No, not at all – not at all," Simon was pleading at this point. "I was just saying that it looks like something I saw in my books. It looks like something – like I could help you. I want to help you Jayne, please, I can help you, I can show you – I can help you fix it. The letters – they're not your fault. It doesn't matter how many times you practice it, unless you get the right help, they're always going to come out wrong. You can read them fine, right? You can read them because you know the letters – it's just writing them, you try to write a letter and a different one comes out, right?"

Jayne lowered his gun a little. He could tell the twerp wasn't lying – and that he was describing what happened to a T. In a short moment he saw all the teachers he'd had before flash before his eyes. He watched a mini version of himself struggle over and over again with writing. He saw the punishments when he would get it wrong, he saw the beatings from his Ma, the groundings in his room. And then he saw a light, and through the light he saw himself bringing home an assignment to his Ma. It was a perfect grade in writing. He'd stolen it from his classmate and changed the name on it to his. His Ma hugged him. She kissed him on the forehead and told him "Jayne, I'm so proud of you."

"Jayne?" Simon watched the light return to Jayne's eyes. The hollowness was now replaced by something different. Jayne was back and he was now staring Simon straight in the eye.

"You wouldn't lie about that, would ya doc? You really think you can fix it?"

Simon nodded, breathing as Jayne gently set the hammer back in place and set the gun down.

"You can't tell no one," Jayne laid out. "If someone finds out, I'll watch you swim."

Simon nodded again. "Of course, of course," he couldn't believe that he might actually make it out alive again.

"At night, after everyone goes ta bed. You meet me here, you show me how to fix it."

Simon was standing now. "Of course," he repeated, his stomach queasy. There was silence.

"Get outta here, then," Jayne took one step to the side to allow the doctor to pass.

Simon couldn't believe it. His heart was racing, he was barely breathing. He wanted to throw up. He'd made it out alive. But at what cost? Of having to spend the next few nights in Jayne's bunk teaching him how to write. Could he do it? Could he really do what he said he could do? He sure hoped so, swimming in space wasn't exactly a great pastime of his. Simon began to climb the stairs.

"Hey, doc!" Jayne grumbled.

Simon shook and stared at Jayne.

"You forgetin' something?" Jayne pointed at the dirty sheets lying on the ground. He picked them up and tossed them at the doctor on the ladder.

Simon caught the sheets and ascended the ladder as fast as he could. He ran through the galley, past a confused looking Kaylee, and straight to his own bunk where he took the chance to toss the sheets onto his bed and then expel his entire lunch into his latrine.

AN: Review if you like ovaltine!


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Thank you for the continued reviews and support!

Jayne was pacing. We're not talking your run-of-the mill pacing. This was something of a cardiac workout's worth of pacing. His heart was beating fast, his breath was huffing in and out. Sweat was running down his brow. He couldn't pin point exactly why he was panicking like this, all he knew was that he was down-right worried. Stressed even. He didn't even understand anymore why he'd agreed to allow the doctor to help him. Like he'd even be able to help at all. Jayne recalled teacher upon teacher who had tried to help him in the past. He recalled every single one giving up and discarding him as another stupid kid. But he wasn't stupid at all. He knew the answers, he knew them every time. He could spell any word asked of him, do any math in his head – and he'd always be right. That was until he had to write it down. That's when things always went south. He'd think one thing and write another. It was like his head and his hand were on two different pages of the book. And worse was that when he tried to explain the way it worked to other people, he'd just get confused and jumbled. He got nervous. He didn't like to talk to people about it.

And Jayne was nervous now. Afraid even – not that he'd ever admit to an emotion like that. There was only one thing more terrifying than never being able to write well. That was being promised that he'd be able to write well, and then that promise falling through. What if he tried and he failed – it would be even worse. If he got his hopes up that he might someday be able to make his Ma proud of him just to be told, once again, that he was stupid – well, it'd be worse than had he never gotten help in the first place.

His nerves were not helped even in the slightest by the fact that the doctor never showed up to dinner – and that it was clearly time for him to show up – and he still wasn't there. Jayne wondered if perhaps the doctor had been lying. If he'd done it just to live and had since found a way of hiding until he could escape the ship unnoticed. That was probably it. There was no way to fix him, there was nothing any doctor would be able to do that would fix what happened in Jayne's head and he was sure of it. He'd been a fool to believe that anyone would be able to help him – especially the pompous doctor.

Grabbing a pistol, Jayne resolved to go find the arrogant bastard and teach him what it was like to die in space. He'd just checked to make sure he had bullets when the latch above him hissed open. Two black dress shoes made their way down the ladder followed by a well-dressed doctor with perfectly groomed hair. The sight made Jayne's stomach churn. He tried to hide the gun before the doctor could process his surroundings. He wasn't fast enough.

"I could come back at another time," Simon's fears were making themselves reality. Just a few moments ago he was darting questions from his curious sister as to what he was doing, where he was going, what he thought he was doing, where he thought he was going, and if he really, in fact, knew what he was doing after all. She could really drive him nuts sometimes. Regardless, when he realized he was going to be tragically late to the man's bunk, his mind started playing out the different scenarios in which Jayne could likely kill him. The first was very simple – a clear shot to the head. 'You should probably be very sure to help him then,' River had told him after reading these thoughts. He was very inclined to, he very much liked being alive.

Jayne stopped Simon from scrambling back up the ladder. "Thought you weren't coming."

"So you were going to hunt me down with a pistol?" Simon stared as Jayne carefully placed the gun back in its place on his gun rack.

"Um. Yeah," Jayne replied quite plainly. That had, in fact, been the plan. He folded down the sheet covering his guns and sat down on the bed. "You're late."

"Apologies, but I was intercepted by my mind reading sister and, as I'm not permitted to tell a soul of our arrangement, it was particularly difficult to get past her while also hiding my thoughts," he explained. "I'm glad you didn't have to shoot me," he added for good measure.

There was silence as the two men regarded one another. Simon was now seeing Jayne with different eyes. Instead of seeing an ignorant fool, he saw a potentially extremely intelligent man whose only problem was communicating his ideas with the world. He'd spent the last four hours doing more research on conditions like this and realized that it wasn't limited to writing exclusively, it also sometimes involved speech. Knowing the root of the problem was sometimes the key.

Jayne wasn't seeing anyone different really, except the doctor he hated. "So you really think yer gonna be able to help me?"

Simon nodded. "That's my hope, but I have to tell you, some of my methods might seem confusing to you, I just need you to trust me, do you think you can do that?"

Jayne eyed the doctor with one eyebrow raised.

"Right then," Simon exhaled. "We'll work with what we have," he opened up his notebook. "Now, when did you first notice you were having troubles writing?"

"Ma says I always had troubles, I don't remember much till I was about seven or eight, I reckon," Jayne tried to play along.

"Alright, and do you have any troubles reading something to yourself, or doing mental math?"

"Sharp as a tack in those areas if you ask me."

"Good," Simon handed Jayne a small table with simple words written on them. "Can you read the first two lines?" Simon had jumped immediately into doctor mode, he wasn't even looked at Jayne when he responded.

"Yeah."

Simon looked up. "Could you read them out loud, please?" he persued.

'Dog, log, bog, god, gol, gob. Dog, log, bog, god, gol, gob.' Jayne repeated the words in his head. "Dob, log, bog, dog, got, gob," he said aloud, and knew immediately he'd said them wrong. "No, no, I meant DOG, log, bog, god, log, bog," he exhaled and repeated in his head what he'd just said 'dog, log, bog, god, gol, gob.' It was right… he thought.

Simon copied each thing Jayne said down into his notebook. "Did you just say to me 'dog, log, bog, god, log, bog'?" Simon was staring at Jayne again.

"Are you deaf, doc, that's what I said, that's what it says," Jayne began to second guess himself.

"Actually Jayne, you said 'dog, log, bog, god, log, bog'. But that's not what you remember saying, right?"

Jayne shook his head. He hadn't said that – had he? He could feel heat rising into his face.

"It's alright," Simon noticed how uncomfortable Jayne was, how afraid he looked at this precise moment. He considered what it would feel like to be in Jayne's shoes. Had Simon not been able to communicate what he'd read, to do math on a sheet of paper, to write his thoughts down and take notes – well, he didn't know where he'd have ended up. He surely wouldn't be a doctor. Putting himself in Jayne's shoes, he suddenly realized all the doors that must have been closed to the mercenary what with not being able to write. A strong feeling of sympathy washed over Simon as he registered the frustration on his student's face. "Really, it's alright, Jayne. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you've give me incredible insight, I mean, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what's going on and I've been reading all day about ways that problems like yours have been fixed in the past."

Jayne perked up at the last bit of information. "You mean there've been others like me? Others that can't write good, can't repeat what they read and such?"

Simon nodded. "That's exactly what I mean – and that's good news. If I can just start to get an insight into what happened to you that brought this about – well, that's just the first step, when we figure that out, we can begin to address the psychological reasons your hands and your head don't seem to work together. All I have to do is pinpoint where, exactly, in your past… I mean to say – what trauma happened to you, Jayne? What happened to you as a child? When you were very young, what happened that would be triggering this?"

Jayne had listened carefully most of the way. He felt the change in conversation though, when Simon's voice got higher pitched, when he appeared to be getting – excited. Jayne could feel the air in the room change as the man began to ask questions that he wasn't quite inclined to answer. And the further Simon poked, the more Jayne found himself resenting him. When the doctor fell silent, all Jayne could do was stare at him.

Simon wasn't meaning to sound as excited as he did, but he couldn't help it. When a diagnosis was only questions away, he got giddy like the young boys when a companion comes around. He didn't feel the air in the room change and wasn't at all phased by the silence. "Did someone hurt you? Did someone hurt your family? Did you watch someone get shot?" Simon didn't even notice Jayne reach for his gun.

"You should probably leave now," Jayne tried to stay calm.

"What?" Simon looked up. Upon seeing the gun, he immediately stood, his excitement was completely gone. "I – what's?" He saw the look on Jayne's face. The man being as rough and sturdy as he was, Simon hadn't even considered that these questions would phase him at all. He backed up slowly. "I'm – I'm sorry Jayne, I – we can approach this from a different direction. I-"

"You should probably leave now," Jayne repeated.

Simon gathered up his belongings as quickly as he could and stumbled to the steps. There wasn't a gun trained on him, but he still felt as though there was as Jayne's eyes followed his every step. Instead of hollow anger in his eyes, Simon could see pain. Pain that he immediately regretted because he knew in that moment it was his fault. Simon began to climb the ladder but stopped before he was out. "Um, Jayne?"

Jayne, who had taken this moment to stare at his gun, looked up slowly.

"We'll fix this, I swear."

Jayne set the gun down and listened to the soft hiss of the hatch closing behind Simon. He sat down on his bed and stared at his hands – they were shaking. A ghost image of a small pistol materialized in his hands. The room around him went fuzzy and he found himself staring into the face of a six year old nearly twin version of himself. His big brother, Hosea, was smiling back at him.

"_See, Jayne, isn't it cool? Father keeps it in here, he doesn't know I know where it is," his big brother grinned from ear to ear as he balanced the pistol in his hands. "Wanna hold it?"_

_Jayne watched his four year old self reach out and wrap his little fingers around the pistol._

"_Cool, ain't it?"_

_Jayne's ear drums rang. He wasn't sure what had just happened but when he looked back at his brother, his eyes were wide and he was falling to the ground. A pool of blood started to form around his younger brother's body._

_Jayne screamed._

AN: Who saw that coming? Honestly, I didn't… it just kinda happened, much a surprise to me, not even kidding a little bit. Anyway, reviews are fun :-D


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Just a warning that if I don't get to writing today, there won't be an update tomorrow.

Stopping in the galley, Simon couldn't help but beat himself up. It was worse than he'd thought. Heck, had he even thought? All he'd ever considered Jayne was a spoiled egoist who liked to play with guns. He'd never imagined that there might be some kind of history that actually made Jayne into who he was. A lot of people were born with a natural inclination to violence. He regarded half of the scoundrels that Mal worked with on his jobs. Some people were violent because they enjoyed it. That's all he'd ever imagined of Jayne – maybe a daddy desertion issue or something of the likes – but he hadn't actually considered that some real trauma might be affecting the man. Simon fell onto the couch.

"It's a small ship, you know?" Kaylee appeared the in doorway of the galley. She'd seen Simon exit Jayne's bunk. If she had been a bit confused before, she was definitely confused now.

Simon jumped only momentarily startled. He was too caught in his own brain to really be concerned about her being there so he just shrugged her off. "Suppose so."

Kaylee's eyes narrowed at the doctor who hadn't even looked up at her. "Small enough to see when folks are sneakin' around places they 'ought not be," she tried again.

"Yep." Simon was still focused exclusively on the exchange that had just happened. The fear he'd seen in Jayne's eyes was haunting. It was as if there were a ghost standing in the room with them, one that only Jayne could see. Simon scratched his head and continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Like when I watched River climb out the air shaft without a suit sayin' she wanted a better look at the stars," Kaylee pushed.

"Hmm," he didn't regard her and resorted now to responding to her with disinterested grunts.

"Simon," she sat down on the couch with him and set her hands on his knees. His cloudy eyes came down and met hers, she could see focus returning to them. "Got somethin' on yer' mind then?"

Simon was back to reality. His eyes traveled a few other places before returning again to her. "I uh, no. Nothing," he lied, trying to sound convincing but lying at it just like he usually did.

Kaylee stared at him some more. "Simon, why didn't we work out?" Part of her assumed something she would never admit, but she wanted to hear an answer.

Simon was snapped back full blown into reality. They hadn't talked about that in months – he didn't much like that changing now. One look in her eyes though and he could tell that she genuinely needed an answer. "Kaylee, we've already gone over this – many times in fact," he tried to avoid it.

"I know, but I need to hear it again," she was looking deep into his eyes, looking for anything that might give away the answer.

Simon didn't want to talk about this, he had so much that he was thinking about at that precise moment, namely how to deal with Jayne, that talking about trivial things such as failed relationships wasn't exactly something he wanted to waste time on. Still, he could see the pleading in her eyes, the need for an answer. He let out a sigh of exasperation. "Kaylee, you remember how I used to make you cry all the time? How I used to say mean and hurtful things to you? That's why we would never work. Cause I always had a way of hurting your feelings without even realizing I was doing it."

"But I told you. You know I did. I told you ta stop tryin' ta solve my problems, that I could do it myself. But you weren't one to take that answer, you'd still try to solve it. Even when there weren't nothin' to be solved. You'd come flyin in like some prince on his steed – and that's when ya hurt me. When ya seemed to assume I wouldn't be none the able to take care of myself if you weren't around. I told ya, but you still wouldn't stop. Why did you never stop? Why didn't you want to be with me?" Again, she suspected the answer. She just wanted to hear him say it.

Simon shook his head. He couldn't emphasize how much he didn't want to be having this conversation. "I don't know Kaylee. I liked you plenty, ok? I just don't know," he hoped this would make her stop.

Kaylee looked at the ground. "I know why," she told him plainly. "Was just hopin' you knew why too."

"Great, first Jayne wants to be a doctor, now you want to be some psychiatrist? News flash, I'm too smart for therapy so whatever you think you need to say to help me become one with myself again – just say it already instead of beating around the bush like this." Simon was still a bit tired, he hadn't slept in a few days and was wanting to just sort out this one problem in his head and go to bed – he didn't need another problem added on top of it.

Kaylee stood up and stepped away from him. "Yer' problem with me is that there weren't nothin' about me worth fixin'. I didn't need you and you couldn't stand that. But ya' know what I see, Doc? I see someone who needs to spend a little more time fixin' himself before he goes around thinkin' he has somethin' special to offer… well… anyone. I don't know what you been up to these days, what you been doin down there in Jayne's hatch, and really don't care a'neither. But a'fore you go talkin' all high and mighty on the rest of us, you better check yourself. You might just find that the one with the problem ain't no one but you," Kaylee didn't want for him to respond. She was too frustrated with him. He could really be intolerable sometimes – which is probably one of the reasons it really never did work out. But she needed to leave him now to think about what she'd said without having the chance to come up with some dimwitted comeback that only made sense to him.

Simon sat there bewildered. He had no idea what had just happened, his brain hurt. He was exhausted. He kicked himself again. He'd be best to just get some sleep and work on his thoughts tomorrow – granted if he could sleep. He jumped up, still frustrated and now, a little fuming from what Kaylee had accused him of, and marched to his bunk. 'Needing to fix things. God, she's so irritating sometimes, no wonder we never worked out,' he said quietly to himself. He grumbled as he washed his face. Of course he needed to fix things – that was how he was programmed. Why else would he have become a doctor? He wanted to help people, that's what he did. Her words began to mix with the words his sister had said to him before. 'What happened on Miranda changed all of us,' she'd said. All that changed for him is that his sister suddenly became an independent young woman capable of making her own decisions. What had happened was he'd lost two great friends. What had happened was that he'd helped the entire 'verse see the truth and he had nothing to show for it now. He was still a coward doctor, nothing more than a fugitive on the run in a giant galaxy.

Simon fell onto his bed. The world had changed without him. It had moved on. It was as if his purpose was served and now there was no longer a place for him. Simon stared at the ceiling. A purpose. That's what he'd really lost. That's what brought him happiness – not fulfilling his purpose – just having one. He looked at his life and then at the dirty sheets from Jayne's room that were still sitting on his bed waiting to be washed. 'That's it,' he thought. 'Jayne.' He smiled and grabbed the sheets, enforcing what he was thinking. 'My purpose now is to give him what he never had. I'm going to fix him.' He smiled and closed his eyes. Sleep quickly overwhelmed him and he pulled the dirty sheets in closer, burying his face in the comfortable aroma.

AN: I know that not much happened in this bit, but it was still important as I develop Simon. Reviews are the nice thing to do!


	14. Chapter 14

AN: I know that I said I wasn't going to update today, but I decided that I could, instead of giving you one big update, split this part in half. It's short, yes, but you're gonna love tomorrow's update – it's one of my favorite moments yet.

Simon didn't see Jayne at all the next day. He'd heard through the grape-vine that the man was in something of a foul mood and had spent a good portion of morning in some sort of dispute with Mal before just resigning himself to his room to clean his guns for the rest of the day. Simon didn't look for him. He found himself, though resolute in his purpose, still very frightened to face the man that had now, on three separate occasions, made him fairly certain he was going to die. It unnerved him, but he regarded it a bit easier now. When he had resolved to save his sister from the fake academy, he'd faced much scarier situations. When his purpose was to expose Miranda, he'd faced men much more frightening than Jayne. And when his mission was to bring his sister back, he faced the impossible opponent of her just needing time – and also her being able to kill everyone aboard the ship if she got the whim for it.

Jayne was a harmless foe comparatively speaking. Though that didn't make him any less nervous. It was night now. Everyone else was asleep in their bunk as far as he could tell. It seemed no one stayed asleep long these days – especially with Inara being on almost everyone's mind. Even Mal was found to be restless, unable to focus on much including conversations. Simon creeped around the corner and gently pressed the combination to get into Jayne's bunk. He crawled down the ladder to find Jayne sitting on his bunk –as if he'd actually been expecting him.

"Didn't think you'd come," Jayne stared at the doctor. He'd hoped the doctor would come back. He didn't want to talk at all, but his lapse in sanity had reminded him that he owed more to his mother than he ever bothered to think about and that the letter had to be written. It had been a rough day considering all this. Jayne didn't typically spend much time thinking about things that bothered him, but today he couldn't avoid it. He'd made his argument with Mal last as long as he could but eventually ran out of things to complain about. It hardly had worked as a good distraction. Cleaning his guns worked for a while too. But guns can only take so much cleaning. He was eventually just left to his own mind.

"I said I would fix it," Jayne said simply, trying to read the rough man in front of him. "And I will, but you have to trust me." He jumped straight to business.

Jayne stared at the doctor for a little while not sure what to think of the statement. He should trust the clean and kind doctor? The one who had taken the opportunity to remind him of a past he tried every day to forget. The one who on at least one occasion threatened his life. Yeah… that was likely. Jayne continued to stare.

"I know," Simon rolled his eyes. "I know you have no reason to trust me as a person. If you can't trust me, at least trust me as a doctor. This is never going to work if you don't trust that it will. If you fight me every step of the way, this will not be a success. I need you to work with me." Simon pursued Jayne. If he was ever going to fulfill this purpose, this needed to happen. The trust needed to be there.

Jayne stared some more. The man had a point, just not a good enough point that Jayne felt inclined to agree to. "I'll do it on one condition. No more questions about me, if you can't help me without diggin into my psyche or whatever the hell you were tryin'a do then I don't want your help. I don't care to talk about me, and I'll shoot ya before I do," Jayne emphasized his point by standing up, demonstrating his clear size advantage.

Simon nodded. That would be enough. "No more questions like that, I promise. I think I've found another way to help you. And I don't need to know anything about your past. So does this mean you'll trust me?" Simon's whole new-found purpose was counting on this. He needed Jayne to say yes.

Jayne nodded. "We can skip the hug and just get on to business."

Simon grinned and produced a book of flash cards.

AN: Omg, trust! It's only taken me 20,000 words to get them to trust one another. What's the order? 1. Respect (check) 2. Trust (check) 3. Friendship (just around the corner) 4. Review (my fic) ;-)


	15. Chapter 15

AN: As promised, this is an exciting bit for me. It made me smile.

The next few days were remarkable as far as Simon was concerned. Jayne was a faster learner than Simon would have ever suspected. The method he'd approached was a complete relearning but with a form of disassociation. He'd untaught Jayne everything he knew about sentence and number structure on paper. When Jayne did something wrong, Simon recorded it, finding patterns and algorithms that connected the deviations. When an algorithm was found, Simon would simply explain to Jayne what was happening. He'd give him various different methods at that point to write or read the same letter in a completely different way. Sometimes it was as simple as when writing the letter, starting with the pen in a different place. Some of the more difficult words, they applied the method of writing the word backwards.

Jayne was just as surprised at how easy it had suddenly become. When he got particularly stuck, he would just try and think like Simon, he'd begun to identify and solve the problems without the doctor's help.

It was only one more day until the ship would land in Durintrel, and Simon and Jayne were hard at work. Simon had given Jayne the task of transcribing text into writing from a math book – something Jayne would have never even imagined doing. He had a hard enough time writing down words that came from his head, but having to get them in his head in the right order and then put them out in the right order, paying special attention to getting all the letters right. But he did it with ease, and could hardly believe that only five days ago, the task would have proved too frustrating and landed the book in the trash can.

Simon stood and watched over Jayne's shoulder as the man's fingers flitted across paper, sometimes stalling for a moment of consideration, but always moving along with confidence and accuracy. He smiled and place a hand on the man's shoulder. "I think you've got it, Jayne," he smiled. "And I think there's something a lot more important for you to do right now than copy numbers and letters from a book." He smiled and reached over the big man, taking the book from him. He laughed to himself when he realized that he'd just taken something from Jayne's hands without even flinching. It was true, in only five short days it was as if his fear of the man had completely vanished. He saw Jayne in a whole new light and as long as he didn't ask prying questions, he felt that he would never be at risk of seeing one of Jayne's guns trained on him again.

Jayne looked up puzzled. When Simon sat a blank piece of paper in front of him in place of where the book had been, he started to realize what Simon meant by it. Jayne nodded. A few days ago, he might have kicked Simon out of the bunk so he could write the letter in private, but he actually didn't mind getting the chance to show off to the smartsy scholar. Without speaking he began to write. He found the words flowed to his finger tips with a new ease, a new flawlessness. Sure, there were times that he stumbled, that he knew his fingers were able to write the wrong word. But with the practice he'd been getting every day, the process of stopping that wrong action and replacing it with a new one was almost undetectable.

Simon was elated. He had never suspected his purpose to excel so speedily. He'd have liked to credit it all to himself, but he knew… were Jayne not the sharp pupil he was, Simon would still be fighting just to get the simplest of concepts down. He was careful not to pay too close attention to what Jayne was writing – he certainly didn't want to run the risk of putting his nose in Jayne's business.

"I think I'm gonna tell her about you, too," Jayne looked up, a huge grin was on his face.

Simon smiled back and sat down at the foot of Jayne's bunk. A bit tired, he laid back, staring up at the ceiling. Pride overwhelmed him. Not just in himself, but in Jayne. He was so proud of what Jayne had accomplished.

When Jayne looked up after finishing the letter, he was met with a softly snoring doctor lying at the foot of his bed. He was surprised to find he didn't care even a little bit. Writing that letter had given him such a euphoric feeling. He folded the letter and placed it in the envelope he'd already filled out while practicing earlier that day. Looking back at the doctor, he considered waking him up. The dark haired man looked so different when he slept. He no longer appeared to be hiding behind anything – he wasn't hiding behind his smarts, he wasn't hiding his fear… the sleeping man was just Simon. And Jayne was shocked to find that he actually seemed to like that man. He was a good man, a trust worthy man, and a miracle worker. Someone who didn't give up on him even when he'd put a gun to his head on multiple occasions.

Jayne grabbed a blanket and draped it gently over the doctor's body. He grabbed a blanket for himself and curled himself in a ball at the head end of his bunk. He drifted quickly off to sleep, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the doctor who had changed his life.

AN: I just want to take the moment to plug my one-shot "Blood". It has nothing to do really with this fic, but there aren't enough Jayne/Simon fics out there. That one's very dark and rated M most definitely. But read it if you feel like it. Review it if you want I hope you enjoyed this short update!


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Thanks for the patience over the weekend. Didn't get any writing done at all, and I'm starting a new job today – but no worries, writing is still a priority and if things change and I won't be able to do 5 updates a week, I'll let you guys know about it.

"Wake up." Simon turned over in his sleep, content to continue dreaming. "Wake up." This time he felt a sharp nudge in his ribcage and was forced to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. The most pronounced feature in his presence was a pair of brown eyes staring urgently at him.

"There ya are," Jayne spoke to Simon. "Honestly, ya sleep like yer dead, doc." Not like he'd spent the last five minutes just staring at the sleeping entity, continuing the strange analysis of who the man behind the doctor really was. Who was he kidding? That's exactly what he'd done. There was something just so… transfixing about the sleeping doctor. It wasn't until he'd started to hear people up and moving about that he decided he really should rouse the man and get him out of his bunk before people could catch him and ask questions.

Simon blinked again, not entirely sure what had happened or where he was. He looked up again, Jayne was still staring at him. "Did I?" He sat up. "Did I fall asleep in your bunk?" He didn't remember it, all he remembered was waiting patiently while Jayne finished his letter to his Ma.

Jayne regarded the doctor. "Uh, yeah doc, musta been sometime after I passed out myself." Jayne didn't want his momentary lapse of tenderness to go noticed.

"Where'd I get this blanket?" Simon pushed the blanket off of himself and scratched his head. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep here, especially with the smell.

"What is this, twenty questions? Just get yerself up, doc and get out of my bunk before the captain starts lookin' for ya and comes stormin in here thinkin I offed ya overnight," Jayne pushed the question to the side, confident the doctor wouldn't pry any further. "Not to mention, I'm starvin' and I'd like to get out of here myself."

Simon nodded, realizing there was actually some merit to what the mercenary was saying. He gathered up his books and headed to the ladder.

"Now wait a minute," Jayne rolled his eyes. "Mind lettin' me get a look first, make sure no one's gonna notice a scrawny piss ant crawlin' out my bunk?" The last thing he wanted was to have to explain why the doctor was there in the first place. What people would think was nearly as bad as what the actual truth was. He'd just rather not having to bother with it. Jayne pushed Simon to the side and ascended the ladder. Upon opening the hatch, he noted the coast being clear. "Come on, now," he offered his hand.

Simon was still groggy from sleep and just listened to Jayne's instructions. He reached up and took the offered hand, balancing his way out of the bunk with his books in his other hand. He watched Jayne close the hatch immediately and, without a word, the scruffy man took off toward the kitchen. Simon blinked some more, his eyes were still not fully adjusted. Not to mention his brain was still trying to figure out how exactly, he'd come to fall asleep in Jayne's bunk. He wasn't even sore, it was as if he had been comfortable, warm, and content the whole night though. He never slept like that. His nights were always riddled with listlessness and nightmares. Simon scratched his head again and then, turning, headed back to his bunk. He needed to freshen up after all, they'd be landing by midday and off to see Inara.

oooOOOooo

Simon wasn't the only one who had experienced an unexpected night of restful sleep. Mal stepped out of his hatch in time to see a groggy looking doctor flit quickly by. Of course he didn't question anything, it was nothing unusual to see his crew walking the halls. He headed straight to the galley for some breakfast. He figured that after having not slept pretty much at all since they'd taken the job on Durintrel, last night finally caught up to him and he was able to sleep the entire night through. This left him in a surprisingly good mood. He wasn't even a bit annoyed when he walked into the galley to find Jayne making something of a mess out of the kitchen as he made breakfast. "Know, Jayne, you could always keep things clean when cookin," Mal said with a smile.

Mal's smile actually freaked Jayne out a little. The captain was never happy. Jayne decided it was best not to question the captain's good mood and simply nodded. "Sure, Cap, but if I did that, no body'd know it were my cookin." Jayne flipped a pancake to reveal a perfectly golden underside.

"Got a point there," Mal could only agree. Maybe his mood was enhanced too, about the thought of getting to see Inara. Which of course, didn't make any sense as Inara had made it perfectly clear where things were between the two of them. And it wasn't that he minded at all either. He didn't care about Inara in any special kind of way anyway. They were friends – and that term was a pretty loose one to use, cause he didn't always much like talking to her. But still, the thought of seeing her today had a part of him singing. "You appear to be in a particularly fond mood today." Mal acknowledged the renewed vigor with which Jayne was making breakfast. He hadn't seen Jayne take any kind of interest in anything since they'd left Corpus Hei and Hoban Jr. behind.

Jayne just shrugged. "Guess I just slept well's all," Jayne lied. As much as he wanted to brag about being a new found genius, Jayne still wasn't quite willing to admit that, up until a few days ago, he could write worth anything.

"I hear that," Mal stood and began to pour himself a glass of milk. "Don't mind if I do," he chuckled as he commandeered the pancake Jayne had just finished cooking. "Captain gets first of the food anyway."

Jayne didn't even protest. Heck, Mal could probably tell him that they were crash landing into a planet filled with Reavers and Jayne wouldn't even bat an eye. Sure it had the potential to ruin his whole day, but he was going to enjoy this one moment for as long as he could. "Sure thing, Mal," he laughed back at his captain and got to work making more pancakes. Today certainly had potential to be something.

AN: I know this probably feels like a half-assed chapter. Sorry if it does, just needed a time out from the hard task of making those boys like one another. It gets exhausting :-D Review if you liked it – and don't forget to check out my mini-fic "Blood" if you feel like it – like I said, it's dark, but it turned out kinda sexy too *big grin*


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Big update this time, hope you enjoy where it goes :-D

It was midday, as expected when Serenity made her gentle landing on the plant of Durintrel. It was mostly a companion planet, a place where the girls and boys would come for their training. A place where the older companions would return to retire when their time in the field was spent. The experienced companions would spend their time bequeathing to the trainees the tricks of the trade and sometimes even sharing client lists with those they took particular likings to. This caused the entire planet to have an air of professionality to it. The air smelled of incense, the houses were like castles, and the people – all of them, acted with grace and courtesy. It all made Jayne feel incredibly uncomfortable.

Trusting the planet and its inhabitants fully, Mal felt comfortable once again, leaving the ship unattended by anyone from his crew. He lead them through the streets, cargo in tow, to the local hospital – which looked more like a mansion than anything.

Inside, the only person who seemed at all at ease (aside from the countless companions who, even in old age and disease encountered all situations and places with a calm certainty) was Simon. This hospital might be very different from the ones that he'd spent his years in university at, but every hospital had that smell that made him feel at home. Even knowing that all of the doctors were Alliance doctors, he wasn't even a bit frightened. A hospital was one place he felt like he could fit in and go unnoticed.

The haul wasn't illegal this time, and so Jayne continued to push the linens through the hallways until they landed outside room 242. He watched Mal peek his head inside the door and heard a weak voice invite them in. Jayne waited until everyone else had entered to squeeze the carrier through the door. Jayne felt his heart hit the floor when he looked up.

Everyone felt it. Looking up at them from the bed was a weakened shell of the woman they had known before. She was frail, skinny, and her shiny hair had lost its luster and was replaced by a dull pale brown. Her face was pale and sunken, even her eyes had seemed to lose their shine. She wasn't wearing any makeup. Kaylee was the first to step forward and take Inara's hand.

Inara took it willingly. She knew what they saw. She faced it every day when she would take her trips to the restroom. She'd requested a few times that the orderlies remove the mirror from her room, but was told that they simply couldn't do that for her. She knew that she was just a skeleton, both physically and emotionally. She reached out her other hand and placed it gently on the side of Kaylee's face. "Do not worry," she smiled. "I may not look it, but I am still me."

Mal stood at the foot of her bed with his arms crossed, uncomfortable, all the joy that had been there this morning was gone. When her eyes met his though, he could see her still there, deep down. Her gaze pulled at him, still too stubborn to reveal her true thoughts, but still telling everyone else exactly what she was thinking.

Simon watched this all unravel. He saw the burning look in Inara's eyes as she stared at Mal. Everyone but the two of them could see how in love they were and how much pain she was in knowing that she would never have him. And on the same note, he could feel the crack in Mal's voice as he spoke to her. He could feel the pain that it put Mal in to see the pain that Inara was in. The whole thing was proving a bit too much for Simon to handle, all the emotions, all the anger. And was it getting hotter?

Simon had been in hospitals a thousand times or more. He'd watched his patients get sick and die. He'd watched gruesome illnesses violently take over a body. He'd watched people wretch as they died. This was something new though. Never before had he actually cared so much for the patient. Never before had he seen a client when they were well, never before had he watched such a subtle and heartbreaking transformation. Never had he experienced this part of death. Simon's mouth began to sweat, his eyes blinked and opened again blurrier than before. It was getting hotter. Simon tried to loosen his collar, finding both the first and second buttons were already undone.

The entire room turned as the doctor who had seen death more than anyone else in the room toppled gracelessly to the ground.

oooOOOooo

It was Simon, this time, who got to experience the phenomena of opening your eyes to brilliant lights after having had them closed for so long. The light actually seemed to sting so Simon just shut his eyes again. He felt as if he were floating and when he opened his eyes again, he realized that he wasn't floating – he was flying… or at least floating and moving forward at the same time. His neck felt strained as he lifted it up.

"Doc?" Simon heard a familiar voice nudge at his consciousness. All Simon could do was moan. The voice pursued him again and this time he was forced to acknowledge that he was not, in fact, flying. Instead he could feel two strong arms wrapped underneath him and, upon focusing, could make out the outline of a bearded face and brown eyes.

"Doc," Jayne tried again. Jayne carried the doctor, following one of the nurses as she directed him to a bed where he might lay the doctor down. The small man was quickly coming to. Jayne turned into the room he was directed to and set the doctor gently down on the bed. Not one to recognize gentleness very far, Jayne reached his hand up and slapped Simon on the side of the face. "Come on, then, Doc, what was that about?"

Simon recoiled from the slap on his face. "That's gonna leave a mark," he mumbled and tried to recollect himself. He blinked a few times.

"Sorry," Jayne said softly. "Just had me going there, you ain't sick, are ya? Ain't got some illness you reckoned not to tell the crew about, like 'Nara did? You ain't dyin are ya?"

Simon took a moment to regard just exactly what he was being asked. Not only what he was being asked… but how he was being asked it. He could hear the concern in Jayne's voice. He could even feel a slight trembling against the bed. It was as if Jayne were actually very worried at this precise moment. And when Simon's eyes focused on the rough man's face his very musings were confirmed. Jayne stared down at him looking absolutely frightened. Simon blinked once again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he opened his eyes, the same man, the same expression continued to stare at him. "I…" he wasn't exactly sure where he should be starting. "I'm not dying," he figured this was the one to start with.

Relief came over Jayne. For half a moment he pictured this doctor, whom he felt entirely indebted to, he pictured him slowly wasting away just like the companion they had left behind in the other room. He only regarded for a moment that he likely had overreacted to the whole situation. "Well," he sputtered. "That's good then," he tried to recover from his moment of tenderness and concern, hoping the doctor hadn't noticed.

It was too late though and Simon felt a grin forming at the sides of his mouth. "Don't worry," he started. "I won't tell anyone."

Jayne smiled too, realizing he'd been caught. For just a moment a piece of his humanity seemed to return to him. He didn't even know why he'd been so concerned. It couldn't just be that he felt he owed the doctor something. Heck, he owed a lot of people a lot of things and always felt relieved when he'd found out they kicked it or something of that sort – meant he didn't have to pay them back anymore. There was something more to his concern and he hated to admit it, but it almost felt as though he was worried for a… friend. He spent all his life keeping people at a distance, no one cared about him, so he cared about no one. That's the way it always went. The way Simon had spent so much time with him… Jayne actually felt cared about for once and the feeling was absolutely reciprocated. "Well," he was still grinning. "That's good, too, then."

Simon felt a strange sensation wash over him. One moment he was in a slight panic. Not sure what had just happened to him. Only remembering the world going black and waking up flying. Now he was comfortable… comforted… by a… friend. He didn't remember the last time he'd felt something like that. He'd been real close with a friend from school, they'd actually gone on to med school together. They'd only lost touch after Simon endeavored to rescue his sister. He'd spent the first few months actually morning the loss of his friend – he didn't have anyone he felt comfortable around – save his sister of course, but he couldn't talk to her about - stuff. A friend. He liked the thought of that. He tried sitting up to find the world began to spin when he did that.

Jayne quickly jumped to Simon's aid and held his arm as he returned slowly to a lying position. "So why'd you go on passin' out like that?"

Simon tried to remember. His smile disappeared when he did. "It was Inara. Seeing her like that."

Jayne was confused. "But, Doc, ain't you seen a hundred folks dyin' like that? Figured you of all people'd be just fine with it."

Simon nodded. "More than that," he shook his head. "But I've never seen one before they started to die. I've never watched someone decline like that," his eyes fell. "I've never realized how much unfinished business they have to take care of, hopefully before they die."

Jayne understood. "You mean with Mal? Heck, we can all see the way those two look at each other. It's a shame."

"No kidding," Simon agreed. Mal still hadn't come clean with Inara, and she was still too stubborn to admit it herself. Everyone figured that when she couldn't hide it anymore, when it was clear something was wrong, when she'd told them that she was sick, they were sure Mal'd suck up his pride and confess his love for her. But he hadn't, and since he wouldn't, she refused. When Zoe had tried to bring it up to Mal, he'd actually stormed off. He was hurting but no one could tell how badly. "Just seeing them in there. I don't want her to die, Jayne, I don't want her to go without knowing… love."

Jayne exhaled. "If I ever found a love like that, hell knows I'd never let 'em go like that. Just can't love someone and let 'em go on and die. Just ain't right."

For once the mercenary seemed to talk complete sense. Simon just nodded. And silence filled the room. "Think you'll ever love someone like that?" Simon broke the long pause.

Jayne never gave it much thought. He was a scoundrel- that was his profession. He'd never much had given thought to the prospect of actually being able to have someone. He couldn't do much else than pirate around the 'verse. If he ever met someone, how would he provide for them? He didn't much like the idea of leaving them behind while he did his dangerous jobs, only to return two or three times a year. "I don't know," he confessed. "Don't think about it much. Suppose it'd be nice an' all, but tough for a guy like me. Ain't much more I'm good for'n shootin at people. Never figured myself one for settlin' down," Jayne was honest. "What about you, doc?"

The question shouldn't have caught Simon as off-guard as it did. He honestly never had much interest in romance. Kaylee was the closest he'd ever gotten, and all it was around her was a nervous uncertainty. Books had always been more interesting to him than women. The only girls he ever really seemed to notice were the ones with the most compelling diseases. "I," Simon tried to think of something. "I don't think I will," he finally blurted out.

Jayne was surprised by this answer and didn't have the chance to ask further when Simon tried to sit up again. Jayne jumped to his side and steadied the doctor by the arm. "All right there?"

Simon nodded, pretending to feel much better. "Should probably get back to the others before they start to worry about us." Simon fooled Jayne. He wasn't really feeling much better. He just wanted absolutely nothing to do where this conversation might be headed. He slowly put his feet on the ground and stood. He felt his knees go weak but was caught around his shoulders by two sturdy arms. "Maybe at least with a little help," he chuckled, brushing it off as something less than it was.

"One step at a time, doc, one step at a time," Jayne encouraged him. He may have been temporarily distracted from what the doctor had said – but he hadn't forgotten it. He mulled it over in his head. Why was the doc so sure that he wasn't going to ever love no one like that? The thoughts swam through his head as he slowly escorted the doctor back to Inara's room where the rest of the crew waited.

AN: I'm ashamed to admit that as of right now I only have one more chapter of this story written (though I plan on writing another tonight). I don't know how it caught up so quickly as I typically won't update unless I've written that day… Anyway, hopefully I won't disappoint you guys and I'll still be able to put out a new chapter every day. I hope you enjoyed this little bit, let me know what you thought, I'm starting to accuse my story of getting boring, so I need some feedback!


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Short update – enjoy Just a little momentum for the story – trust me, when this part comes up again – you're gonna love that chapter! Oh – and a little reminder that I'm still really looking for a good Beta reader!

Inara was glad for the company but very tired. As her condition weakened she had found it was becoming more and more difficult to maintain her stoic refusal of emotional expression. She was too tired to ask them to let her rest, but her face exposed it all.

As dimwitted as Mal seemed to be when it came to the companion, he was the first to pick up on her unspoken intentions. He still stood, cross-armed at the foot of her bed. "Well, we're plannin' on bein here a few days at least. Looks a might important you get a bit of shut eye. We really oughta find ourselves some arrangements for the night anyway." Mal wouldn't admit it, but a part of him was glad to get out of the room. He hated this hospital, and most of all he hated seeing Inara like this. He didn't know where it came from but somewhere inside him there was a gnawing, something that was trying to work its way out when Inara was around. Something that Mal fought every time for fear that once out, he wouldn't be able to put it back again. He didn't want to know what it was, nothing ever was what he wanted it to be and this would likely not be any different.

The crew slowly began to clear out of the room, now reading Inara's face as clearly as the captain had. They said their friendly goodbyes, promised to return the next day, and left her alone in silence. Inara did hold up a hand though to stop Simon before he left. "I would like to talk to you alone, if you do not mind," her eyes were heavy but she wasn't sure how much longer her fragile brain would hold on to her thoughts. Simon simply nodded and waited until the room was clear.

"A companion is taught to recognize a good many emotions. We are trained to keep an eye out for a plethora of conditions that will tell us if we are in danger or if those that are around us are in danger. Being able to identify these things eventually leads to our being able to read people quite well and pick up on emotions even when they make no sense." Inara took a deep breath, letting her body relax further into her bed.

Simon looked at her quizzically. He feared what she knew – why he had fainted, what scared him so much. He didn't want her to know, he wanted her to feel safe. A doctor fainting when he sees you – that's never a good sign.

"Aside from the obvious," she smiled, her training kicking in to put Simon's thoughts at ease. "That seeing me was difficult for you only because you know me, not because death is unfamiliar – aside from that there is more." Ever since the doctor and mercenary had returned to her room she had noticed a very peculiar interaction between the two individuals who had once hated each other. She had noticed Simon's eyes drifting to fall on Jayne, a smiled curl around the edges of his lips, his looking away again when Jayne would turn. And Jayne also – a constant vigil, checking on the doctor, actually betraying his concern that the doctor might tumble over again. Something had changed between them since she'd seen them last and – from her training – it was something even they didn't recognize.

"I love him, you know," she changed directions. "Mal I mean, I love him, I have from almost the moment I met him. I have known it all along. And I know he feels the same way for me – not because he has ever said it, but because I have seen love in all its forms. Because I can identify love in another person often before they can identify it themselves. Mal does not know that I know he loves me because he does not even realize that he does."

Simon didn't understand. He shook his head. "Why don't you just tell him, wouldn't that be best? How can you just go on like this pretending there isn't something there?"

"Because I know and that's all that matters. If I die, if he dies, it happens while I love him. That is something. But if I die, or if he dies, he is left with confusion. What matters is that I know I love him, he does not have to know it. I only wish for his sake that he might come to the realization that he loves me before it is too late." Inara was slowly approaching her point. She couldn't just come out and tell the doctor that there was likely something similar to this building up inside him. But she had to tell him somehow, she had to get through to him a very important point.

Simon was still looking at her with confusion. He supposed he understood what she meant – that it was worse to love someone and not know it than to love someone and they not know it. But it still didn't make sense. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because there is only one thing worse than hiding the truth from the person you love," she could see the words forming in his mind.

"Hiding the truth from yourself," he finished her sentence. "But why-" he still didn't fully comprehend.

"Because I can see something you cannot. Because I need you to look inside yourself. There is a truth that you do not even realize and I can only stand so much heart ache. The man that I love will suffer but you do not have to. You have so much time."

Simon nodded, her words bothered him. Some truth that he was hiding from himself? He simply couldn't see it. That was probably her point though. Did it have to do with Kaylee. Had he refused to see that he loved her? His mind went in many different directions all at once until he stopped it with frustration. "I'm sorry, Inara, I just don't-"

"You will not," she smiled. "Not right away. Just… please listen to your heart. Take it from a stubborn dying woman, your heart cannot steer you wrong." Her voice was growing softer. She was very tired. She reached her hand up and placed it on the side of Simon's face. "I need to get some rest now. Just think about it."

Simon wrapped his own hand around hers, kissed her gently on the back of the hand, set her arm down and quietly left the room and the quickly sleeping companion.

AN: Things have slowed down a lot, I know, but I promise you, the chapter that I wrote today (Friday's update) is awesome – I had so much fun with it! Review if you feel so inclined (even if you think I'm moving too slow right now – any feedback is helpful). *insert shameless plug for "Blood" (my other Jayne/Simon ficlet) here*


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Time for a little insight into Jayne Cobb. Don't worry, Simon will have his turn before long.

The suns on Durintrel were excessively impressive this time of year. Not that Jayne paid any attention to them. At this precise moment he found himself huddled in an alleyway behind the local postal office. It shouldn't have been so hard really – the letter was nothing of spectacular brilliance. Yes, every word was spelled right, every letter drawn correctly… but the content really was nothing new. Just the typical, 'hello, how ya been?'. He never really had cause to say much more than that anyway. He'd sent a few before this one, usually around one or two a year – more at the beginning, but there was something about this one. And hell only knows why Jayne found this letter a particular challenge to drop in the send box.

He sat there in the alley flipping it between his fingers, staring at the address, rereading it for the four-hundredth time. It was right, everything was addressed right. The letter was sealed and stamped, it was ready to go. But Jayne just stared at it in its black on white glory.

Memories pass faster than moments.

Jayne found himself back at home in the body of his eight year old self. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink before beginning to peel a small stack of potatoes his mother had left him there to finish. His father would be home before long and expected dinner to be ready on the table when he got home. Not that he was a rough man who demanded much, he'd never raised his voice or a hand to his wife nor his children – but he was a stern man and when he expected something – it was best to fall in line else face the master of lecture.

Things had been much different in the household since that fateful day four years ago. It was quieter. Where there once existed a woman of incredible fortitude existed now a tired and haggard woman, thinner and paler, and subtly angrier. Her anger never showed itself in the obvious sorts of ways, she hid it remarkably well. It was the small things that Jayne ever caught on to, the slamming of dishes when he asked too much of her, and the very low voice she took on when he didn't immediately follow her orders. She was very different in front of his father though – she didn't let anyone else catch on that she was at her limit taking care of an 8 year old and a 10 year old vegetable.

Jayne helped as much as he could. When he got home from school, he would check on his brother, Roger, clean the sheets if necessary, and then go immediately to the kitchen to assist in preparing dinner. He'd learned not to ask what she wanted him to do, he simply observed and when a task presented itself, he'd jump on it before she could ask him to. And that was life for the most part in the Cobb household as far as Jayne could see it. What went on while he was at school or after he went to bed was a mystery – until this particular day.

When his father got home, everything was still proceeding as usual. Jayne pushed Roger's cart to the dinner table where he, his mother, and his father ate and exchanged small talk for the amusement of the spectator. Father seemed a bit more somber on this day, his eyes finding themselves constantly flitting to gaze at his oldest son.

What Jayne didn't know was that the bank had contacted his father earlier that day regarding his estate. They had informed him that, upon review, they found him in default on a loan withdrawn to cover some of Roger's necessary medical expenses. Because the loan had been in default for such a lengthy amount of time, they were demanding the loan paid in full by the end of the month. If the loan were unable to be paid, the bank would have to foreclose on his property to make up the balance due.

But to Jayne, it was an ordinary day.

At midnight, Jayne woke with a start, his mother shaking him awake. "We have to go," she'd told him. He wasn't sure what she meant, but caught on quickly when he smelled the smoke. He looked around and sure enough the entire house had a crimson glow to it. She pushed him out his window and jumped out herself. She half-carried him away from the harm of the house. Jayne could still feel the heat as he watched the flames on the house soar higher and higher. Panic beat in his heart as he looked up at his mother. She knew immediately what he'd realized and simply wrapped her arms around him to keep him from moving.

He struggled against her. He pushed her, he bit her, he did everything he could think of to try and make his way back to the house. But she was bigger and stronger and held him tight. He could feel tears begin to streak down his face as he struggled. Both Roger and his father were nowhere to be found.

When the fires died down the next day, Jayne was silent. He refused to eat anything but when the firemen carted out the charred remains of his big brother, he still had enough left in him to throw up all over his mother's shirt. When his father's remains were never found, his mother just shook her head at him to tell him to keep quiet.

Unable to prove arson, the insurance company was forced to pay up for the price of the home, which covered the cost of the past-due bank loan as well as the cost for him and his mother to afford a small but comfortable apartment in town. It was still years later when he'd discovered that it was all set up by his father who had run away. That his father had chosen at that moment that both Jayne's life and his mother's life were more important than a father and his oldest son. Jayne had never fully come to terms with that decision.

All through school he found himself plagued with the image of his brother – a brother who would have still been alive had he not been so foolish all those years ago with a gun. When he'd first found his grades dropping, he imagined all the time how badly he wished that he was dead instead of his brother. His mother's anger turned violent sometimes, the beatings for his grades sometimes worse than they warranted. After it became apparent he was not going to be successful, he sometimes wished for the beatings. It had been the only form of attention he could get from his mother.

Their relationship changed through the years, a mutual understanding, a sorrowful begging for forgiveness… a forgiveness reluctantly given. He loved her and she loved him, but clouding their love was the unfortunate bitterness that comes from a child losing his brother and a wife losing her husband. Each blamed Jayne, and the strain of that would never die.

So in that moment, Jayne recalled just where exactly his fear came from. What if it changed nothing? Something that he banked so much on, something that he hoped would change the course of the future for him and his mother – what if it changed nothing. What if it was too little too late. What if his mother would continue to resent him for the loss of her child and her love?

Jayne fiddled with the envelop some more. Staring at it, turning it over in his hands, checking the address for the four-hundred and oneth time. He shook his head. It didn't matter. This wasn't for her anymore. It was for him. If she couldn't recognize the incredible lengths he went through, then that was her own business. He was proud of himself – for the first time he wasn't clouded by the haunting imagining that he'd rather it be him dead than his brother. He stood with resolve and marched to the mailbox. With steady and confident hands, he dropped the letter into the send box. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let go.

AN: I was told that this might be a bit confusing. Break down: Jayne's daddy knew that he couldn't provide for all four of his family. He made the decision to burn down the house (paraplegic brother included) so that his remaining kin (after they couldn't find him) would inherit the insurance money and have a shot at making ends meet. Both Jayne and his mother blame Jayne for this – had the brother not been shot – they would have never have come to this. There is an amicable relationship between son and mother (he's the only family she really has left) but there is also a shade of resentment from mother to son because she blames him. I'd like to hope that was made clear in the story – but just in case…. Also – review if you feel like it. Also – I wouldn't have to worry about it being confusing if I had a good beta… *wink wink*


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Last update for this week – good news – you got an update today – bad news… you might not get another until after Christmas *flinches away from raised hands*.

Simon's anxiety grew as the minutes ticked on. He had found himself, as agreed upon, sitting inside the Smoking Barrel – pretty much the only bar on the entire planet that catered to the not-so-refined types. It was filled with drifters and smugglers who liked the chance to catch glimpses at the locals. An occasional young gun who'd experienced recent fortunes at the gambling tables would work his way into the pub after squandering away all his winnings for just a few moments with a registered companion. Always sure the money was well spent, the gun would press any captain he could find for a cheap lift back to the outer rim where he might take another fool for his last dime.

The air fit the bar's name to the T, the air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey barrels. He supposed he understood why Jayne had told him to meet him here – not like the mercenary could feel very comfortable anywhere else on this planet. It wasn't exactly Simon's cup of tea though and as the minutes passed by, revealing no Jayne Cobb, he fancied the idea of just leaving – living with the whim that Jayne had found another bar gotten slobbering drunk, and completely forgotten about the prim doctor that await him.

He'd nearly exhausted all his time-passing techniques. He'd managed to win, at least assumedly as he didn't actually get up to sit at the table and merely played in his head from a distance, multiple games of blackjack. He'd counted how many cowboy hats were in the room and came up with an amusing algorithm to determine within a margin of error, how many of those men with cowboy hats were likely to also be wearing bolo ties. His chances for entertainment were dwindling and he found himself pondering on the only thing left to him: what Inara had approached him about.

What could he be missing that was so obvious to a companion? And more importantly, what could he be missing that his sister, a reader, hadn't already picked up on and told him about? Or perhaps… perhaps she had picked up on it and said something but he hadn't even noticed what she was talking about. Or maybe Inara was just delirious in her weakened state and was talking absolute rubbish about nothing at all. But she had seemed so sincere. He remembered the pain that was clear on her face when she talked about Mal, she was genuinely distraught when thinking that she might die without him ever realizing that he loved her. She seemed truthfully content when saying that she didn't need to tell him because so long as she knew what she felt, she had more peace than she needed. It was all so confusing. She seemed perfectly lucid, and adamant to boot.

He considered the conversations he'd seen her and Mal have at length before. The times when she tried to allude to him that there was something that he refused to admit was true about himself. How she always refused to say what exactly it was… and how frustrated Mal would get when he couldn't figure it out. He remembered too, the pain, again, that Inara would be put in, realizing that she couldn't share the truth with Mal – that he had to come to it on his own. Everyone could see it so plainly, but he was completely blind.

Everyone kept their mouths shut though – no one wanted to say anything unless they were asked – and Mal certainly didn't do any asking. Perhaps that was the case here. Maybe there was something obvious to everyone but him. Maybe if he just asked, someone else would share with him what he was missing. But who could he really bring it up to? Certainly not Kaylee, for all he knew, what he was missing was about Kaylee. Not to mention if he told her that Inara had passed the information on to him – she would be on Inara's side and refuse to tell him what it was even if she knew. Mal wasn't much of a talker these days, Zoe was still pretty heartbroken and when any notion of love was presented to her, she would retreat and go distant. River liked to speak in riddles, and the last thing he needed was to be more confused. That really left one person.

At one point, Simon would have cringed at the thought of divulging such sensitive thoughts to the man… but these days, he actually felt he might get an answer. Most importantly, if Jayne did know the answer, he wouldn't be one to hide it from him just because it was "something one needs to discover on their own." Simon stood up with resolve, he would find what bar Jayne had passed out in and nurse him back to health to get his answers.

"Goin somewhere, Doc?" Jayne had just walked in and ordered a drink in time to notice Simon seemingly on another planet, deep in thought like he was known to get sometimes. He had sat down across the table, knowing that the man would eventually come back to reality, and just waited. When he watched Simon stand up to walk away, he figured this was as good a time as any to speak up.

Simon snapped to and stared at the large man sitting in the seat across the table. "When did you get…" Simon sat back down. "I was going to look for you."

"For me? Well look-ey there, ya dun found me," Jayne took a sip from his glass of whiskey. To be honest, Jayne half expected that when he finally made it to the bar, the doctor would be gone. This place certainly wasn't one you would frequently find an Alliance trained top 3% doctor. Not to mention, he had taken remarkably longer to send his letter than expected. What with building up the courage to do it and all. "What were ya lookin for me for anyway?"

Simon blinked again, still shocked that a man of his size could be half as sneaky as he appeared to be. "I um…" Simon cleared his thoughts again and focused on the task at hand. "How did the letter go? Did you run into trouble sending it?" Simon's thoughts were distracted so he focused on something small first.

Jayne shook his head. "No trouble, just took a might longer than expected is all, had to figure where to have the reply forwarded to an' all." He had chosen Persephone. The one planet he was sure the captain would return to in the next few months.

"Ah, I see," Simon feigned interest. He was really only focused now on finding out what it was he was lying to himself about.

"Figured on sendin' it to Miranda, seeins how much fun we had last time we went there, an the whole Reavers situation down there – figured we'd have some fun," Jayne tested his theory that Simon wasn't even listening. His musings were confirmed.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Simon half-heartedly answered.

Jayne stared at the doctor who was now staring off into space, clearly trying to work something out in his head – what, Jayne had no way of knowing. And so Jayne just stared and waited, wondering what might be going on in a big brain like that, wondering if maybe doctor's thought about things differently than the rest of them. Maybe he was right now finding the cure to Inara's sickness – Jayne certainly didn't want to interfere if that were the case. Silence ensued.

Simon's train of thought was only broken but a sound he was not expecting. Or perhaps the absence of a sound would be the better description. In his lost train of thought he'd also lost the sound of Jayne's voice. He was no longer speaking and that little fact pulled him out of the trance he'd been in. He looked at Jayne and found the large man to be staring right back at him. "Can I help you?" He was suddenly nervous, not sure what he might have done to elicit such an intent stare from the large man.

Jayne laughed. "Yeah, why don't you go on and tell me what you're goin on about in your head. All you been doin for the past three minutes is starin into space with a goofy look on yer face. I'd be foolin ya if you believed I weren't quite a bit curious," he smiled at the doctor, embracing the comfort that had slowly began to grow between them over the past week.

Simon shook his head. "I'm sorry – sometimes…" he reached. "Jayne, I need to ask you something, very honestly, and I need an answer, it's driving me crazy."

Jayne prepared himself. He had no idea what this could mean. Was the man going to try again to pry into his personal life. Jayne put up his wall, prepared to back the smaller man down with the ferocious force he'd learned from his mother. He could feel part of his subconscious pulling himself out of his body, but he waited for the question first.

Simon took Jayne's silence as approval and went forward with the questioning. "Is there something… different about me lately? Something I've been doing, things I've been saying – anything that's… different. Something obvious to you but clearly oblivious to me?"

Jayne's subconscious let go and the real Jayne remained locked and attentive. The walls slowly lowered. What was the doctor asking? Something obvious that the doctor didn't notice? "What do you mean?" he tried.

"It's just – well, Inara said something, she was going on about how Mal didn't realize that he loved her but everyone else did. And that the worst person to lie to is yourself. And she mentioned that I might be lying to myself about something that I had to figure out but – I've no idea what she's talking about." Simon laid the whole thing out in front of Jayne who continued to stare at him in confusion.

The obvious was just as hidden from Jayne as Inara's love was hidden from Mal. He searched through his recent memories. "Well, you have been in a better mood lately, I think, what with teachin a folk that's held a gun to yer head on a few occasions and all. You think she meant somethin' with you and Kaylee? I thought you two were pretty amicable and such, she hasn't seem too broke up about it."

Simon nodded in agreement. "Exactly! I mean, she has to just be delirious or something. Unless it's something that no one can figure out. I'm positive I'm not falling in love – who would I be falling in love with anyway?" Simon let this sentence mull over in his brain for a few moments. 'Who would I be falling in love with-' he looked up at the large man in front of him. The man who he suddenly felt comfortable talking to about intimate things like secrets and love. The man who had proven to him that he was more than just a trained gorilla, that he was an incredibly intelligent and well-thought man. Someone who comforted him when he'd found himself unable to deal with a very confusion situation.

Jayne's eyes met Simon's as the doctor lifted his eyes to look up at him. His eyes narrowed as he considered that last statement. A long moment passed between the two of them before Jayne leaned back in his chair. "You're right. She's gotta be delirious. You ain't in love, doc pretty sure love's the kinda thing only a fool doesn't realize – and while the cap – he's a right fool, you sure aren't one." Jayne finished off the last of his drink.

Simon nodded, taking in what the mercenary was telling him. He was a brilliant doctor who could win at blackjack and make complex algorithms that applied to just about anything he put his mind to. If he were falling in love… he would know. He just knew he would know. And since he didn't know – it meant he wasn't. Problem solved. "I could drink to that," Simon agreed and hailed down a passing waitress. "Two of those, please," he pointed at Jayne's drink. "On me," he smiled, accepting a gracious nod from the large man.

When the drinks made their way to the table, the two men lifted them in unison. "To fools that fall in love," they agreed and continued the rest of their drinks with jovial laughter and conversation. So jovial, in fact, that an onlooker might even suspect they were friends.

AN: Review if you loved this chapter almost as much as I loved writing it. They're so cute :-D


	21. Chapter 21

AN: I'd like to send a quick shout out to my new beta-reader, starinshadows Also – I'd like to thank everyone for being so patient during the holiday weekend – I know I didn't update, but I chose to spend time with the real family as opposed to this fictional family I love so much! I hope you enjoy today's update.

Mal was a nervous wreck. Despite having picked up the lead he'd been hoping for while on Durintrel, an unknown desire burned at him after having seen Inara in the hospital bed. Their parting was less than ideal. A piece of him could tell, deep down, that that was the last time he might ever see her – and another piece of him was absolutely torn up about it. Why was it bothering him so much? Heck if he could tell, she was just a whore, a registered companion. Yeah, she had been pretty helpful during her time on the ship – got them access to places they normally would have never ended up. But that was hardly something to bemoan losing so much.

And, he reminded himself, don't forget how infuriating she was to talk to. He could recall countless times the two of them had started out a seemingly innocent and amicable conversation only to end the exchange with harsh words and a bit of storming off in opposite directions. There was absolutely no reason why he should feel so torn up about leaving her behind like that – at least that's what he told himself. He'd said his goodbyes, he'd thanked her once again for being a good friend and ally, even applauded her for being the best looking patient in the ward, what more was left to do then?

And these are the thoughts that kept Mal Reynolds awake that night, pacing along the homey corridors of Serenity. He stalked the halls, restless, letting one thought after another pass along his consciousness and then disappear just as soon as a new one came to be thought about. Everything was quiet for a while until he heard another pair of footfalls following behind him. The footfalls were heavy but calculated. They made the sound of a person who had surprising stealth for the size of a body it carried.

Only one person on the ship had the capability of making such a sound with his feet. Jayne, too, was having difficulty sleeping. He couldn't pinpoint either just why his brain wouldn't let him sleep. There was something nagging at him. He couldn't tell what, but a part of him was repeating over and over again that he was forgetting something – that something was missing. Be sure that if Jayne could figure out what it was he was missing, he'd be on that quicker than he could fall asleep with it solved. He wasn't surprised to hear another set of feet stalking Serenity's halls, he figured this much after watching the tragic display of lack-of-affection that had occurred between Inara and Mal that very day. There was no way a fool was going to be able to sleep after an encounter like that – even if he didn't know why he wasn't able to sleep. Jayne made no attempt at being unnoticed and simply spoke up when he felt he was close enough. "Not sleepin tonight, Cap?"

Mal nodded, he'd wished that he'd been left alone to his own thoughts, but that apparently wasn't going to happen and he did feel a slightly twinge of grudge for the large man that had interrupted that. "Wasn't much feelin it, no, Jayne. Now what's got you up and walkin' around?" Mal took the opportunity to pry at the mercenary before the mercenary had a chance to pry at him.

Jayne could sense Mal's defenses even before he made it clear they were up. He'd figured this much actually – he'd expected the captain to be ornery – heck, he'd be ornery too if he'd just left the one woman he loved quite probably never to see her again. It had to be eating away at him. "Nah, feel like I'm forgettin somethin', you know the feelin'? Like I left somethin' behind but don't quite know what it is."

Mal knew exactly what Jayne was talking about. It was as if he'd forgotten to tell Inara something, and part of him dreaded that he'd never get the chance to tell her now. Mal nodded. "Think I know what yer talkin' about. Like, it's somethin' that ya don't even know ya know, but a part of ya knows it and the part that knows it is pullin' at ya, tellin' ya to know what it knows, but ya have no way of knowing what it knows." Mal's mouth was full by the time he'd finished his thought.

Jayne scratched his head. As confusing as that had been – it really did make sense, he wished that his own demon were as easy to figure out as Mal's was. Really, Jayne wished he could mention something to the captain, but after a long discussion with Inara, he was sworn to keep it to himself as her last wish from him. He hated it: keeping something this big from the captain. What he didn't get though – was how the captain didn't figure it out on his own. It was all so obvious to everyone else – well, to be fair, Jayne had been the very last of the crew to figure it out – but he'd figured it out, anyway, and if Jayne could pick up on something like that, he didn't quite understand why the captain couldn't figure it out.

"Sure be nice, don't you think, if our resident moonbrain could prod around in our thoughts and tell us what it was we were trying to think about, huh?" Jayne had just now considered this.

"Don't bother, I already tried. Gorram girl talks in riddles, couldn't make heads or tails of it, just that she knew what it was," Mal grunted. That had been a frustrating conversation to say the very least. The girl had her good days and her bad days. On her good days, it was as if she were any other 19 year old, on her bad days it was if she were a three year old with the dementia of a 93 year old wrapped up in the straight jacket of a paranoid schizophrenic. Today was a bad day and all the girl had managed to tell him was that daisies need sunshine and water to grow or they'll sit in the ground as a seed and just fester until they get rotten and eat themselves from the inside out. It was far from helpful.

Jayne had already made up his mind though. "She up in the bridge?" He pursued the captain for information it would probably turn out he didn't even want in the first place.

Mal shook his head. "Yeah, she's up there, but won't be no help," he tried. He was too late, Jayne was already on his way to the bridge to have his daily helping of moon brain. He hated when the girl when in his head – but maybe just this once he'd ask her to, and he'd figure out what exactly it was that was pulling at him so.

Sure enough when he got to the bridge, the girl was sitting there in the pilot's chair humming a song to herself and staring up at the stars ahead of them. "Knew you would come," she paused then continued humming.

"Yeah, sure you would," he began, trying to formulate, what, exactly, he was going to ask her.

"He has a question that he wants me to answer – something's missing, and he wants to know what it is." All of his emotions were pouring into her head. She hated days like this, when she couldn't keep others out – when she could barely separate her own thoughts and feelings from those around her. When she felt all the pain, the fear, the frustration – all of it, and had no way of escaping from it. These days were hard. Most times she would just sit herself at the helm and not leave until she was able to keep out the voices again. The hardest part was that on the days that it was the hardest – those were the days that people's thoughts were the loudest – and the days that people felt they could come to her for some kind of answers to their problems. She wanted to help – she tried to help, but her brain – it just wouldn't let her most of the time. All she could do was spew out riddles that would frustrate and upset.

"That's exactly it. You can tell then? What is it?" he pressed her, certain, for some strange reason, that he would actually get a helpful answer.

"It's like the gun," she tried. "You can't sleep without her under your pillow. Haven't since you were a boy - but you did the other night. Something instead. Something made you feel safe," she pushed, seeing the image of her dear brother curled up and sleeping at the foot of Jayne's bed. She could see the mercenary cover her sleeping brother. She didn't like it, but she could see the contentment – feel the contentment between the two of them. She tried to show him, but she didn't have the words right now – there were too many words coming from the ship. Too many thoughts.

His eyes narrowed at her. He didn't remember a night that he didn't sleep without his gun under his pillow… of course he would know if he had – he wouldn't have slept. He didn't sleep without his gun, end of story.

"Can't see more, tonight," she whispered, almost pleading with herself. "Can't say more, can't do more, please," this time she directed her words at Jayne. "Please."

Jayne raised an eyebrow. Certainly the last thing he would want is to push this little girl over the edge. He'd only been a bit afraid of her after she'd sliced his chest open with a meat cleaver, but he was more than a bit terrified after she'd taken out an entire ambush of Reavers on Miranda. She didn't need provoked. If she asked to be left alone – that's exactly what he'd do. Even if he didn't have his question answered. And so, a bit defeated he turned to walk away.

"I answered your question, I told you what you were missing," she tried one more time to help him. She at least wanted him to think about it.

Jayne nodded his head and continued to walk out – empty-handed. The captain was right; she wasn't at all useful tonight. Frustrated, he went back to his bunk and practiced his writing and speaking with the flashcards the doc had left him. If he didn't sleep, he could at least do some learning.

AN: Reviews would make a wonderful Christmas present!


	22. Chapter 22

AN: Now the challenge of individual reactions to a realization they're not quite ready to realize Shout out again to Starinshadows for being an awesome beta!

The thought of – well, the thought that he didn't know he was thinking continued to plague Jayne all through the next day. Added to the mixture of confusion was the conversation he'd had the night before with the reader girl – the riddles. He'd brushed them aside at first – figured them as nothing more than a vomiting of words and random phrases from a mind filled with more words and phrases than he'd ever know in a lifetime. 'I told you what you were missing,' her voice repeated again.

It goes to say then, that Jayne was now in the cargo hold, balancing a new set of weights onto the dumbbell in an attempt to make himself exhausted enough to forget that he had anything at all to think about. The problem with his plan, however, was that exercise was a very solo affair. And when one had no one to talk to, no one to listen to, well… one tended to live in one's brain.

It was the last place Jayne wanted to be as he ran over the previous few nights in his head. 'Something made you feel safe,' he heard again, and it made as much sense now as it had when he'd first heard it. What nagged him was that she was spot on about his not being able to sleep without a gun under his pillow. If she had been able to formulate such an accurate thought – why would the rest of the thoughts not be so cohesive? What if she'd somehow been telling the truth – what if she'd told him exactly what he wanted to be told – what if he just had to figure out what it was she'd told him.

He thought through the nights even harder. He stretched his memory as far back as the night he'd collected Persephone from his bunk and was forced to sleep in Simon's bunk instead. He could recall each night in Simon's bunk, turning his revolver over in his hand before laying his head on the pillow and drifting off to sleep. He remembered how hard he'd found it to sleep the first few nights he was back to his own bunk, he remembered the funny smell – though he could hardly remember what it smelled like. But he still remembered tucking his gun under his pillow.

His mind wandered to the nights of lessons. The night that Simon had called out the beast – the night that Jayne was sure he was going to finally put the bullet in the doctor's skull. He remembered how long it had taken him to come down from it. He remembered turning the gun over and over in his hands.

Jayne pushed a heavy dumbbell up from his chest, grunting under the weight. He really needed to stop thinking about these things. He needed to just shut off his brain and work out. He grunted with another repetition as the nights he'd spent learning from the doctor started to flood into his psyche. He did make an honest attempt to keep his guns far away from himself during the lessons. He didn't want a repeat of that first night. He honestly didn't want to kill the doctor – he just didn't have the strength to revisit that nightmare. His subconscious would do anything to never go back there again.

He could feel sweat starting to bead on his brow as he pumped faster, hoping to completely muscle his way out of his own head. He visited that last night, the night when he'd finally gotten it right. The night when he'd written the letter to his ma. He remembered how good that night felt. He pictured the doctor, asleep on his bed. He watched his dream-self pull the blanket over the sleeping man. He watched himself wash his face. He watched himself lay down on the other side of the bed. He watched himself fall asleep.

He pressed up from his chest again, still grunting, soaked in sweat. He didn't see what he was meant to see, and of course had no way of realizing what he'd missed. "Moonbrain don't know what she's saying," he flustered as he set the dumbbell back down on the spokes. He shook his head in frustration. There was no escaping from his brain it seemed. He grabbed a towel and ran it across his face, wiping clear the sweat drops that had began drifting down his cheeks. He'd need to distract himself with something more interesting to think about.

On the right track, he considered thinking about something that was not his business at all – since that always seemed a lot more interesting than what was at hand. His mind brought him to his last conversation with Simon. The one where they'd tried to figure out what Inara might be talking about – when she'd said that Simon had to come to realize something before it was too late.

Train of thoughts, as they're known to do, tend to drift a person from one realization to another. Much in the same way that thinking about your favorite movie can remind you of the last person you watched it with, and the meal the two of you shared together previously. Thoughts drift from how much you enjoyed a particular dish to the good friend of yours long ago that had made very it similarly, and then on to where you had met that friend and what that place meant to you. And that's exactly what Jayne's mind decided to go into motion with.

Having given up on working out, Jayne returned to his room for a dry shower. As he stepped in, his thoughts had drifted to delivering his letter only minutes before he'd met up with Simon in the bar where they first talked about his conversation with Inara. As he rubbed the dry soap in his hair, his mind drifted to writing the letter to his ma. As he stepped out of the shower, his mind pulled him in a different direction – it once again began to show him, quite vividly, the moments after writing that letter – the sleeping doctor, washing his face, laying down, falling asleep. He ruffled his little bit of hair with his fingers. The moment played again. Laying down, falling asleep. He looked at himself in the mirror. Laying down, falling asleep. And it wasn't until then that Jayne saw it. He never reached for one of his guns. He never played with one lazily before settling it under his pillow to sleep. It had never even crossed his mind. He just laid down, contented by the soft snoring of the sleeping doctor – comforted by the clean smell coming off of him – he just… fell asleep.

Jayne stared at himself in the mirror, a thought managing to poke at his brain. 'Something made you feel safe,' she said again. His mind mulled over this thought, pried at his consciousness. Pulled, prodded, begged. "Nah," he shook the thought loose, but it refused to go away. "That can't be it," he tried again. But the thought wouldn't let up, it stuck there, it hung there, needing to be seen, needing him to realize what he'd forgotten – what he was missing.

And then Jayne did what he was known to do best. He refused it. He didn't care how obvious it seemed to be. It just wasn't something he was going to entertain. It could pry at him all it wanted, he was just as ready to ignore it. So that's what he did, and what he was contented to do for as long as he needed to do it.

AN: Reviews help me know I'm doing a good job. If it's awful – let me know – if you like it – let me know, but really, just let me know if I should keep going or give up while the giving's good!


	23. Chapter 23

AN: I have not written at all in three days – so if this chapter is kinda rusty (and most likely short) – I really super times apologize :-D Also – apologies for the late update, I figure this is my New Years present for you – at least one chapter. I haven't written since Christmas so I won't be able to update for a few days – but I'm far from finished with this, so don't worry!

It had been days since Simon had slept well. He'd fooled himself well enough for the full two drinks it took him to get sloppy at the bar – but once the alcohol started to kick in, his doubts accompanied it. He was glad, however, that he had enough wits about him to keep his mouth shut – saying anything to Jayne about what his mind was turning over – well, even though they had struck up a pretty amicable relationship, he was pretty sure what he was thinking would add some unnecessary strain. He'd actually managed to avoid the mercenary for the most part the past few days. He didn't have to do it entirely on purpose as the mercenary himself seemed withdrawn and particularly grumpy.

The greatest amount of avoidance he'd practiced was his staying in his bunk at night when he couldn't sleep. He'd heard Mal's familiar bootsteps many times the past few nights – and once or twice fancied he'd also heard Jayne's, but he always remained planted in his room – usually pacing in the small space, trying to find a way to clear his head.

Had Inara really meant what he thought she meant? Was there something more to his new found friendship? The thought of romance never really crossed his mind – but the nagging thought of the friendship being greater than the typical – well, that was certainly something Inara would find important. So if it was greater than friendship (and certainly not romance), what was it? Was she simply picking up on the extreme pride that he felt for his pupil?

That had to be it; Simon concluded as he pressed in the sequence he was glad had still not been changed. He slid quickly down the stairs, not wanting to run the risk of being discovered again. He made quick work to ball up the blankets on the mercenary's bed and neatly arrayed the clean blankets he'd carried down to look exactly like the ones he'd removed.

Satisfied with his work and still a bit distracted by his ever-prodding thoughts – he almost missed the sound of the sequence being entered above him. Fortunately, the large man hadn't looked down and Simon took the very short moment of a chance to nestle himself in the corner of Jayne's room and do his very best to look inconspicuous as he hid behind the man's laundry bin.

It became quickly apparent that Simon wasn't the only one who'd found himself lost in thought lately. Jayne didn't even bother to look around as he undressed and tossed his sweaty work-out clothes lazily into the hamper. Simon shook as he held the dirty sheets close to his chest, he warily watched from his hidden corner as the large man, baring all, stepped into his wash bay for a quick shower.

Now would be the good time for a getaway, but Simon found himself oddly transfixed on the man he was now looking at. A man who was not guarded, who was fragile and lost in thought. A man who was wide open for an ambush – a man who was simply… himself. It wasn't the first time Simon fancied he'd seen this man – this pure essence of Jayne Cobb. The only difference this time was that Simon was a bit more… fancied… so to speak at the bare essence of Jayne Cobb. He found himself staring, unable to look away as he watched the man's muscles flex and relax as he rubbed himself top to bottom, brushing himself clean and rinsing away the sweat from his brow.

Simon felt himself breathe deep, taking in the smell that was left behind on the old sheets from the mercenary's bed. He felt his eyes close. He felt a part of himself fall in complete surrender to a moment that he couldn't even recognize, the moment that he found himself falling irreversibly head over heels for the man-ape-gone-wrong. This very thought woke him up with a start. His chance for escape was quickly dwindling and Simon had no choice but to crawl from his hiding spot that very moment and make a job of scaling the ladder at remarkable pace.

As the latch closed behind him, he still didn't feel safe. He raced himself back to his bunk, looking back and forth the entire time – being sure that no one was following him – sure that no one had seen him. He stepped inside his room, slammed the door behind him, locked it tight, and found himself panting like a dog on a hot summer's day. In his arms was still the ball of dirty sheets from the large man's bed, and Simon refused to let go of them as he slowly lowered himself onto his bed. He began to take in the thoughts that had awoken him with such force only a few minutes earlier. The thought that had left him running from the bunk with incredible speed – the thought that he couldn't outrun forever and so turned on it quite forcefully and faced it head on.

Was he really falling for Jayne Cobb? The thought was impossible – repulsive even. No matter how much time they'd spent together – no matter the bullet that the man had saved him from – there was no way that a refined core-trained doctor would find himself attracted to an outer-rim mercenary with a disgusting propensity for violence and dirty women.

And yet, he considered the other man, the Jayne Cobb that he only saw on occasion. The soft man – the well-thought, caring, and curious man. The one with no guard, the one who had nothing to prove, nothing to defend. The one with no need for violence, just knowledge. He thought of the gentleness, the kindness, the man who had carried him when he blacked out, the man whom he had given a whole new lease on life by simply taking the time to care. He could see that man – the Jayne Cobb whom he… loved.

The thought was abrupt but sincere. It both shocked and calmed the doctor as he sat on his bed considering everything that had just come to light in his mind. Was this what Inara had seen? Had she really meant for him to know that he was falling for the mercenary? How could she have seen something that he wasn't even sure existed before that moment he'd witnessed the man in the shower? His head began to hurt. He closed his eyes and laid back, still grasping the blankets in his arms. He found he could barely breathe. This was more to take in than he was quite ready for. He curled his entire body into a ball around the sheets and buried his face as deep into them as he could.

His eyes still closed, he let himself go – perhaps the only time he would let himself go like this – he inhaled, and fell fast asleep.

AN: Simon is so freakin cute, it kills me!


	24. Chapter 24

AN: A lot happens in this chapter, I'm sorry that it moves so fast here. I just needed a few things to happen but didn't want to spend too much time doing them. Apologies if it's not the best I've done – it's been a while since I've written Enjoy! (Just updated the chapter with the beta corrections – want to add this quick note in here that you can expect to see updates again on Wednesday or Thursday – my work schedule will finally even out by then and I'll have the time to focus on writing again!)

How Jayne had convinced the captain to settle in on Persephone before following their lead to the planet of Harbringer, Jayne would never quite know. It'd taken him a number of days to work up the courage to mention that he wanted to stop on the crowded planet for "personal reasons." He'd also, on Simon's suggestion, mentioned that if they stopped on Persephone they could probably get a good connection with Durintrel and maybe be able to check up on Inara.

Of course, Mal had pretended that he didn't think it was important to check up on her that frequently. He did say, however, that since they were going there now, they might as well give her a ring to check up and also see if she'd heard of any more jobs that needed done for the hospital there. 'Mighty good idea to try and take on as many legitimate jobs as we can right now, not draw too much attention to ourselves,' he'd claimed.

It was true that they needed to fly under the radar for a bit. The man in the crimson suit that they'd gathered the intel from regarding the very powerful crime lord in the eastern outer rim had finally gotten loose of the restraints Mal had put him in and sent word that a Firefly ship was out looking for him. The best way to not get caught by your enemies is to catch them first and Mal was sure there would be spies on all the major crime centers looking to tag him and claim the probable reward.

Jayne departed the ship as soon as they landed and headed off in the direction of the post house, hoping he might have a reply from his Ma. He didn't get very far before a familiar voice came running up behind him.

Ever since he'd come to the realization that he was falling irreversibly in love with Jayne, Simon decided he didn't want to waste his energy avoiding the man. It was completely possible to be in love with someone and simply take pleasure with being in their company. He knew that there was no way that Jayne would ever reciprocate so he was actually more than content to be his friend.

Jayne on the other hand was still very unsure of his new friendship. He found that his brain hurt more when the doctor was around, but that nothing was any fun any more unless the doctor was there to enjoy it too. He liked having Simon around, but it sometimes confused him, like there was something going on that Jayne didn't know about. Jayne tried sometimes to avoid Simon, even push him away, but the doctor always found a way back into his company and his good graces. This precise moment, Jayne was actually glad for the company, it was Simon's fault, after all, that Jayne was so excited to be headed that way anyhow.

As they approached the postal house, Simon felt himself tighten up as he pulled his anti-retinal identification glasses down over his eyes. They always scanned at postal houses, so he was glad when the large man identified his discomfort and placed himself directly in front of Simon as they walked through the doors – effectively blocking the shorter man's face from being caught on the cameras. Simon smiled in thanks as the pair strolled up to the receiving desk.

Jayne shared his name with the postmaster and waited as the stout man ran to the back to collect his mail. Upon his return, the post master held a small box.

"I'm afraid this is marked postage due on delivery. Forty-seven pieces," the postal master looked expectantly at Jayne as he waited for the payment.

Jayne cringed, suddenly remembering at least one thing he'd recently had nagging at him not to forget – his wallet. He never took it off ship unless he was planning to buy something. He'd told himself this time that he might want it – but had forgotten it out of habit. Now he would have to return to the ship, collect his wallet, and then get back to the postal office before it closed for the day.

Simon watched the look of disappointment cross Jayne's face. Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and fished out the necessary coins. He placed them in the postal master's hand, fairly certain that he'd read the taller man's unfortunate predicament properly.

Jayne shook his head in relief. "Simon Tam, ya life saver," he smiled; glad he wouldn't have to convince the captain to come here again in the next month. What he wasn't expecting as he smiled, was the look of horror that washed over Simon's face upon hearing his full name said aloud. He didn't even realize what he'd said wrong when the postmaster spoke up.

"Simon Tam, you say? I got a delivery fer a Dr. Simon Tam, been sitting in the back near a year. Think it's yers?" The postal master, fortunately, was oblivious to the significance of the name as a known fugitive with a high reward on his head.

Simon shuddered, trying to read the postmaster and became instantly relieved to see that truly, the only recognition the man had for his name was the delivery that had apparently been in his stock for a very long time. "I suppose so, I'll take it," Simon said, trying to keep his voice low. "Do I have to sign for it?"

Jayne finally realized just what he'd done and felt his heart skip along with the doctor when the postal master didn't catch an important significance to the name. He set a hand on Simon's shoulder and mustered the best apology he could without actually saying anything. The relieved nod of acceptance made Jayne feel slightly better.

"Nope, just getting' it out of my shop is plenty good enough," the postal master returned a few moments later with a very crumbled looking letter. "Sorry it's in such condition, like I said, been back here for a spell."

"That's fine, thank you for holding it for me," Simon didn't even look at the letter as he shoved it into his pocket. No use in taking risks and letting anyone see the name written on it. He'd had his fair share of excitement for one day. The two of them stepped away from the counter in silence. "I'd like to check the boards quickly and then I think I should head back to the ship."

"Thinkin' that's a fine idea, doc," Jayne agreed. The two of them walked to the wanted boards in silence. As they looked on the wall, the familiar faces of River and Simon flashed across the board. He could see the doctor's chest fall with a heavy sigh. They were still very wanted fugitives who had to remain in hiding. He felt sorry for Simon – to have no options like he did. Or to have no good options – stay on the run or lose your sister. The package that he carried from his mother got no attention as the pair walked silently back to the ship. The thought of how awful Simon's predicament was was finally hitting Jayne for the first time. He suddenly couldn't even imagine what was going through his head the time that he'd turned the pair in to authorities. He didn't understand why he would have done something like that to someone like Simon – someone who, despite his being a raging awful jerk, had cared enough about him to become his friend.

The more he thought about it, the more awful he felt, and when they finally got to the ship, Jayne simply excused himself to his bunk to try to sort out his thoughts. He did take a moment, however, to agree to meet up in the galley before dinner to open the package he'd received from his ma.

Back in his room, Jayne was still bothered by the events of the day. Over a year ago, he had thought nothing at all about turning in the doctor and his crazy sister to the authorities for a large sum of money. Today, he felt guilty as all hell because he'd accidentally said the man's name aloud. In the process of feeling awful for the doctor, he caught himself with a strange notion. What the hell did he care? Why did he care? And what in the world had happened to him to make him change so much?

Maybe he cared because the doctor was his friend now. Maybe he cared because he didn't like thinking that his new friend lived a life he had little control over. Maybe he cared because he didn't like that his new friend might be caught at any moment – and that he'd never see him again. He caught himself again. Did he really care about never seeing the man again? He'd had friends before, and he'd been willing to push them out of near-atmo hover crafts just so he had a chance at getting rich. He'd never cared about any friend more than he cared about money.

After fighting with the nagging thoughts of falling for another person for a few weeks, one's guards start to fail. Though Jayne had successfully convinced himself that he didn't really have any kind of feelings for Simon, the thoughts still pulled at him. He needed relief; he needed a break from fighting it. And so he accepted it- this small part. He cared about Simon – even more than he cared about money. He'd take it and he'd be alright with it. That didn't mean he liked Simon in any kind of special way. Just meant he liked having him around and enjoyed the doctor's company.

Furthermore, he realized there was one more thing he had to do for the doctor. He would do his best from now on to make the only choice the doctor had (of staying on the run with them) just slightly more bearable – because that's what friends do.

AN: Shout out to Starinshadows for being a great beta. Reviews are always appreciated! Thank you all for your continued support!


	25. Chapter 25

AN: I've had this chapter sitting around since the beginning waiting to be put in where it fit. I think it finally does – though I wanted to do one other thing first… I've decided you all have waited long enough and deserve this – what I wanted to do first will fit in just fine afterwards – maybe even better. I want to apologize, this new job that I have is kicking my butt… I've got blisters on my fingers and it hurts to raise my arms… but I love you guys and at least owe you this, I'm sorry it's short! Anyway… say a little prayer for me that the line shuts down tonight and I don't have to abuse my body… you might just get another update this weekend if that happens! Also – I was asked to change the rating to M for sex, violence, and reavers…. I'm not sure that they read it… Anyone else remember where the sex came from (you can see boobs on nighttime tv, so one naked Jayne isn't offensive)? Were there reavers mentioned in detail? I missed it. And one person getting shot once is something I think teenagers can handle. I will go back and fix up some language in the first couple of chapters… but yeah, unless I decide to put in a really sexy scene, I'm keeping the rating just the way it is. Anyway – enjoy! You've all waited long enough for this moment

"Don't just sit there then, open it," Simon nudged the intimidating arm he'd become so accustomed to over the past couple of months.

Jayne exhaled nervously. He wanted, desperately to know what his mother would have to say about the whole thing. If she would say the words he'd always wanted to hear. Using his knife, he slowly cut open the tape holding the small parcel together. Amidst a small collection of packaging peanuts, he pulled out a flamboyantly orange journal tied in the front with a frilly red bow. He tugged at the strings on the end of the bow and turned over the front cover. On the first page, his ma had written him a letter. He smiled – a genuine smile.

Simon was caught off guard by the way Jayne's lips seemed to stretch from one ear to the other. He stared at Jayne's face, not even looking to see what was written, just transfixed on the stubble, on the scars, and he listened intently as Jayne began to read.

"Mmy d-darling Jayne, words can't tell ya' how g-glad I was to get your letter in the mail. Wrote it all on your own and I can tell cause ain't no one in this galaxy knows your handwritin' better'n your momma. That doctor there, he must be an angel, how you usta' struggle so much with yer' letters – ta stick with ya till ya' got 'em all so good. I tell ya, baby, ain't momma never been more p-p…" Jayne stumbled. The words. They were there, bright as day on that first page. He choked on them. "Ma says she's real proud 'a me," he looked up to find Simon's eyes square at his. "She ain't never said nothin' like that a'fore. She says she loves me, she says she misses me, but she weren't ever… proud…" his voice began to trail off as he truly met Simon's stare. In them he saw something he'd never seen before. Something raw, he couldn't quite place it.

And Simon could feel what it was. Desire. Watching this man – this crude and angry man, turn into a completely different person once again – the same angelic man he had seen on his doctor's table only three months before. It was that man he'd seen so many times since, on those rare occasions – those moments that he had no guards up. It was the man he'd seen in the shower only days before, the man he loved. "Proud," Simon said softly, and without thinking, without letting another moment pass by where he might lose this man he saw so rarely, Simon leaned toward him, licked his lips, and pressed a delicate kiss on the other man's lips.

Jayne was lost. The joy he felt at this moment, from reading the letter from his ma, from the words he'd craved so long to hear, the joy was intoxicating. He felt, at least for this moment, that he was safe, that he was whole, that it didn't matter who he was or what he did – because who he was, was perfect. And what he did, was kiss Simon back. It wasn't an eager kiss. It was just a kiss, a caring, sweet, gentle, and delicious kiss. Then he pulled away slowly, his eyes closed, opening them just at the perfect time to see those deeply caring eyes he'd learned to loath. But this time he didn't hate him for them. He liked them. Smile never fading, Jayne looked back at the letter. "She says she wants me to use this journal and write about ma days so's when I come home, I can share all my 'ventures – she call's 'em 'ventures – with her. I think I'll leave out the parts where I get shot at and such, though. An' she says she wants to meet ya, to thank ya and such. Says I oughta tell ya thanks from her anyways."

Simon was still sitting there, eyes lit, his mouth pressed together, the expressionless look of excitement that he'd perfected over his years as a surgeon. "That's a-a marvelous idea." He was fairly certain that his heart was no longer beating. In fact, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd have to live before the old Jayne came back and pulverized his brain to a pinkish sludgy mixture that Kaylee might mistake for engine oil. Jayne stood abruptly and Simon flinched, sure this was the moment that he was going to regret having ever made any move at all.

"I think I'ma go start now. Maybe write her about how ya passed out at 'Nara's, an how I swooped in an saved ya," he gathered the box and its contents and trotted to the door, twirling through his thoughts elaborate ways that he might make himself out as more of a hero than he really was.

Simon recovered from the fear of being beaten, relieved that, though he would probably pay for his indiscretion, he would at least live long enough to write out a will. He smiled even bigger as he watched the hulk-being bound from the room. His eyes fell to the ground, and his smile remained, his heart began to beat again, but this time it was beating so fast, his palms were sweating and his stomach felt as though another planetary war were breaking out. The thunderous pounding of footfalls stopped and Simon looked up.

"And uh, Doc? Um… thanks," he nodded at the doctor one more time before finishing the excursion to his room to write. In his room he gently set down the journal by his bunk and walked to the wash basin. Staring in the mirror he recalled what had just happened. The doc had just kissed him – and he kissed back. But why? Because he liked it? That couldn't be it. This was the doc he was thinking about, not some dame with pretty hair. He'd musta just gotten caught up in the moment because there was no way he'd ever… would he? Jayne grunted and fell back onto his bed, deciding that now was as good a time as any to give Vera her daily cleaning. That would take his mind off things, get his focus back, get the doctor and his… kissing… out of his head.

AN: Again, thank you for putting up with my slow updates right now. I hope this was enough to make up for the long absence. I hope I can get back into the swing of things soon.


	26. Chapter 26

AN: Apologies for misreading the call for a rating change. I won't change the rating until I have to – and there's really no sex or violence in the near future that I can make out. I'm not much for sex as much as I am one for romance. But I do understand where you're coming from Sorry again. Anyway, it turned out better that this part came after the kiss, makes it more dramatic and awesome!

When dinner came and went with no sign of Jayne Cobb, Simon began to get worried. He could imagine the mercenary risking atmo expulsion by opening gunfire on the ship against the doctor for the action he'd taken – but missing dinner? That was entirely unlike the man and everyone noticed. The entire meal through Simon had tried to laugh along with the occasional joke about how it sure was a load quieter without Jayne's constant loud chewing but by the end of the meal he regretted even trying to eat because he was so sick with concern.

When he excused himself from the meal early, he fancied no one had even noticed him. He was very wrong with the soft footfalls of bare feet behind him reached his ears. He turned on her, not meeting her by surprise (because surprising a Reader just isn't something one feasibly does), but catching her a bit less prepared for the encounter than she'd probably hoped to be.

"You can't go to him now," she mumbled to him, knowing that there was no bit of him that wanted to listen. She had to try anyway. Only a few hours before, her entire body quaked with excitement. It took her a moment to realize that it was not her own, but that it was coming from a pair of people on the ship. She reached at the feeling, trying to identify just where it was coming from, remembering having only felt that excitement on the ship when Wash was still alive – when he and Zoe would disappear together. When she pulled at the thoughts, she found the too familiar presence of her brother – and also the poetic existence of the man they call Jayne.

The disappointment aside, the knowing the only outcome that could come from their pairing, there was something even more important she picked up on. A very brief but burning recollection of a letter that he'd received. She could see the handwriting, she knew it even, she could almost even see into the letter – but not quite. She needed him to read it, it was important. Now her only task would be to find a way to communicate this need to him. "He needs his time," she tried again, this time feeling a bit of a relent in the doctor's resolve.

Simon stared at his sister, he could tell she was not having a great day, he could always read it on her face, even if he couldn't read her mind. There was something very important, he could tell, and he knew from experience that it could take a great deal of effort to find out what, exactly, the very important thing was. All resolve in him faded as he watched her face askew in frustration. Doing what he did always, he pushed aside his own desires, his own needs, and focused instead on someone who was much more important – his baby sister. He grabbed her hands in his. "Ok," he simply said, knowing that his saying that would make it easier for her to move on to the next point that was important to him.

River relaxed a little bit and frowned. "I can see it, almost can see it," she said. "The words, they're-" she stopped. A hard jolt of pain shot at her as she felt Kaylee bite down on her tongue in the next room. She took a deep breath. "Ow."

Simon shook his head, he was used to how she was always all over the place. He squeezed her hand tighter to try and pull her back to him. "River," he whispered. "Are you okay?"

River stared back at Simon. Her thoughts raced from the pain, to the following laughter of the captain, to the pressure, the throbbing, the hole in Zoe's heart, the captain's aching soul. They all felt so much – and she could feel it all, there was no escaping it. Her own feelings were mingling with theirs and she stared at Simon while she tried to sift through all the emotions to find out which ones were hers. She stared deep into his comforting eyes, the home he made for her. She took a deep breath. "The letter," she finally exhaled, hoping that this time he would understand.

Simon stared at her for a bit longer, reading the pleading in her eyes. Those two words had taken so much out of her to let go of – they had to mean something. He squeezed her hands tighter still, reaching in his own mind to make meaning of 'the letter.' And it did come to him. He could see relief on her face as he realized what she'd meant. "You mean the letter that I got postal? The one I'd forgotten about?"

River simply nodded.

"Of course, come on, it's in my room," he turned, only releasing one of her hands as he lead her down the corridors to his bunk. He reached in his coat pocket from earlier to search for the letter.

River lowered herself onto Simon's bed. Putting out a coherent thought at this moment was difficult, but without even having time to think she heard herself blurt out: "Your room smells like him."

Simon looked up at her with a confused look on his face, but was distracted from her when his hand wrapped around the letter and he pulled it out. He hadn't even looked at it before, but now, staring at the lettering on the front of the envelope, he was under the impression that the handwriting was familiar, though he couldn't place it. He carried it over and sat down next to his sister on the bed. With a fumbling motion, Simon tore open the envelope. The first line on the written letter reminded him exactly who's handwriting he was reading.

'My dear son,'

Simon almost dropped the letter as he skimmed to the bottom of the letter to confirm the letter was, in fact, from his father. He hadn't heard from his parents since the day his father had bailed him out – telling him that he had to stop looking for his sister or be disowned from the family. It had been an easy decision then, but so frequently, he remembered his life at home, he missed his home, he missed his father. Seeing his handwriting again nearly brought the doctor to tears, but he remained stoic in his sister's presence.

Simon read it aloud so that River could hear every word. "My dear son, I'm sorry for what I said to you, I'm sorry for what I did. Had I known you were right all along – had I known, dear god, I would have done things differently. I was a fool, and now I am a dead fool. And your mother – no better off. They've told us so little, but enough that I know what has happened. You have found your sister, I hope she is safe, if you have her – tell her I love her – that we love her. That we're sorry. You see, I'm writing this from the holding block on Terra-Minor. It was not too long ago that the authorities showed up at our home demanding we know about you and River, demanding to have her back. We knew nothing, but they did not believe us. I have managed to make friends with a warden. For a fee, he has agreed to drop the letter in the postal, I pray it gets to you, I'm not sure how much longer I can make it in here. But I wanted you to know – before I pass, I need you to know how sorry I am. How much I love you. I should have been there with you, I should have helped you to save her. I hope you are safe, I hope you are warm and together. The only solace I have is in believing that the two of you are together. Stay together. Words are not enough, but they are all I have now, I hope you can take this offering and find it in your heart to forgive a foolish man. I love you, Simon. I love you more than I can say, and I'm proud of you. Take care of her and live long, beautiful lives. That is all I can say. With my heart, your father, Regan."

Without a word, River stood up and walked away. Simon didn't reach to stop her. He understood. What he was feeling, he could suppress some of it. But she felt it all. He knew where she would go – but he couldn't go with her. He sat, instead, motionless, staring at the letters, going over the words again and again. He watched the words become images, horrifying images of his parents' faces.

He was distracted when I loud knocking made itself known on his bunk door. He didn't need to look up to see who it was that was leaving himself in.

"I was thinkin', Doc. See, I don't blame ya fer it, what with me bein' such an attractive feller an all," Jayne recited the speech he'd rehearsed. "But what ya did – it don't mean nothin' – an it can't happen again." He concluded the first part of his oration with a stern tone.

Simon looked up. "No you're right." He wouldn't look the man in the eye. "I agree, now would you please leave."

Jayne stared at the doctor, baffled. He'd had a whole other speech prepared for when Simon protested. What was he going to do with that now? It was much use when the doctor had agreed so suddenly. He may as well say it anyway, he figured – he'd spent so much time on it, he may as well get to use it. He opened his mouth but was stopped when Simon stood up quickly and advanced on him.

Years of repressed emotions and anger managed to release themselves all at once and Simon surprised even himself as he forcefully shoved the large mercenary out the door, yelling at him. "Damnit, I said to leave!" He slammed his bunk door (as hard as one can slam such a door) after the large man. Not wasting time, he locked it behind him, shouted an obscenity or two just to make it absolutely clear that he had no desire to deal with anything the mercenary might have to offer at the precise moment and fell onto his bed. He felt the tears begin to stream down his face, tears of anger and fear. The faces continued to haunt him, they stared at him, his starving father, his beaten mother. He sobbed and buried his face in the pile of sheets resting on his bed.

He lost his parents all over again and he remembered just why he hadn't even tried to make things work with Kaylee. He remembered why he kept everyone but his sister at a distance. It hurt too bad to lose someone. His parents most of all. But that's when a second thought took over. What if they were still alive? What if he could get them back? The thought possessed him and it wasn't until late in the night that he fell asleep, content with a new plan, buried deep in the sheets of the man he no longer knew he loved.

AN: Don't hit me! This is Joss Whedon's universe. I'd be doing him a great injustice if I didn't make the relationship's ill-fated and near-impossible. (Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Ryley, Willow/Tara, Anya/Xander, Xander/Cordy, Willow/Oz,Willow/Xander, Angel/Cordy, Cordy/Doyle, Zoe/Wash, Mal/Inara – just to name a few examples of how relationships just don't work out when Joss is at the helm.) Not saying they won't work out – but I'm not about to make it easy!


	27. Chapter 27

AN: I've been thinking about this story all month. I missed it, I really did, but I had come to a block as to the next place to go. I knew I wanted to write this chapter about Jayne's head, but everytime I brought myself to do it, it just didn't want to flow. So tonight, I forced it. I'm sorry if it's not perfect, and I'm sorry if there are times when he's a bit ooc, but if this story is going to go anywhere, this is one difficult hurdle I had to jump. Thank you everyone for being so patient this month while I got accustomed to a new sleep schedule, acquired and am still recovering from the flu, and in general was just not in the mood to write. I hope this will make some people happy, and not make too many people unhappy.

It wasn't working. Of course, who would suspect that it would? It seems that the harder you try to not think about something, the more you end up thinking about the exact thing you're trying so hard not to think about. Jayne Cobb pushed a clean rag lazily along the barrel of his fifth favorite gun as he tried, in vain, to not think about what had happened less than an hour before. He could still taste it, he could still smell it. It tasted rich, and smelled like the core, and for the first time in his life, Jayne found that those two things together didn't bother him at all.

There he was, doing it again, thinking about that blasted doctor and his smooth lips pressed up against his own. He grunted and focused on the cloth and gun in his hand. 'Let it go, Cobb,' he said to himself. 'The second you stop thinkin about it, you'll forget about it, and the sooner you forget about it, the better.' He began to vigorously wipe down the oiled gun in his hand. 'Forget?' His mind wandered. Forget about the sudden and inexplicable feelings he had surging up inside him? Forget about how good it felt in that moment to have someone look at you like they actually cared – like they actually wanted to be there in the moment with you. Have someone share in your triumphs. How many a whore had he held late into the night only to awake the next morning to find their smiles cold? Devoid of true affection? It never bothered him before but now that he'd experienced this moment with Simon, all those times paled.

He stared down at his hand as he moved it up and down along the shaft of the gun.

Jayne stepped out of the cold shower a few minutes later and wiped his face off with a towel. He stared at himself in the mirror. 'Gorramit,' he said to himself. 'That doctor sure did put himself in your head. What's a guy like me doin' thinkin' things like that anyway? Ain't like I'm sly or anything of the sort. Least I don't think so…' he felt his thoughts wander again – back to that kiss, that moment, that wonderful moment. He caught himself. "I'm not sly!" He shouted to no one at all.

Jayne's eyes fell on his time piece and he realized that he was not only late for dinner, but probably had missed it all together. Jayne never forgot a meal. He never missed dinner. What was with this man? Getting all up in his head and such, making him forget things like food. Making him feel and think things that he never would have thought of before? Between teaching him how to read and write better, that moment in the bar, the one he'd been working so hard to forget, the kiss. 'Who'd I be falling in love with, anyway?' He heard the words again. He remembered that jolt that he got when their eyes met, the strange way his stomach flipped in that moment and made him feel like he might just toss his drink.

With a groan he fell onto his bed, still wet from the shower. He took a deep breath in and caught wiff of the clean sheets. They smelled like the core – they smelled like him. He beat his head against the wall in frustration. He knew what was happening, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a fight. Truth was, he'd been falling in love with Simon since – well, he couldn't quite point out the exact moment. He figured it was sometime around when the doc had fallen asleep in his bunk. He'd been fighting it for so long, and fighting it so hard – there was no way he was going to win this battle. And so, in one of the bravest moments of Jayne's life, he gave in. One final head bash against the wall and he stared up at the ceiling. A smile spread across his face.

He let himself take it all in. He felt a knot in his stomach release and fill him with happiness. It was as if all the energy he'd spent forcing himself not to fall in love with Simon had all collected up and turned itself instead into adoration and love for the doctor. And now that he knew, without a doubt, that the doctor felt somewhat the same about him, he knew he'd have to make the next move. And so he stood, and he stared at himself in the mirror.

"I was thinkin', Doc. See, I don't blame ya fer it, what with me bein' such an attractive feller an all," Jayne started. "But what ya did – it don't mean nothin' – an it can't happen again." He smiled. This is where the doc would say something along the lines of 'Oh, well of course, I'm – I'm sorry, I was just in the moment.'

"You see, I ain't sly. Never have been. Not much one for figurin' it out either. My whole life I've been pretty good at gettin' just what I want so longs I got a little change in my pocket – least when it comes to gettin'… well, fulfillment so to say." Jayne repeated this line a few times, trying to think of a better way to say it, but finally just settled on the first method he'd chosen. Then the doc would say something like: 'Well, to be honest, Jayne, I'm not sly either. I happen to have had some very good relationships with women.'

At which Jayne would laugh and poke some playful fun at the doctor's expense. "Not sure yer sister counts as a good relationship with women folk, doc." And the doc would say: 'Well, there was Kaylee – and what of it? You don't exactly reek of good relationships, I've never even seen you talk to a woman who wasn't either on this ship, too drunk to know a bad decision when she sees one, or a whore.' And Jayne would smile. "Guess yer right, Doc, I ain't had much luck. But what makes you think I'd have any better luck with a core-bred boy like you?"

The doc would fall into his carefully laid trap and list all the reasons why they would be great together. 'Well, because you care about me. Because we're good friends, because we love to talk with one another, we make great company. Because we care about one another, because being in the same room as you makes me feel safe, because when we're apart all I can do is think about the next time I might get to see you again, the next time we might get to talk again. When we're out together, I sometimes glance at your hand, wishing I could just hold it and be close to you. And because when I kissed you, I knew in that moment, it was right where I was supposed to be. Because I love you. And let's be honest here, you're the most attractive man I've ever met.' Well, at least he would say something to that effect.

And Jayne would smile again, bigger this time, he would step in close to the doctor. "I am very attractive," he rehearsed, staring at himself in the mirror. "No – um… I'll just uh, put my arms around his… waist," he started to feel uncomfortable but then thought of the moment and how badly he wanted it to happen and simply resolved that it was what was going to happen, uncomfortable or not. "I'll look him in the eye and I'll tell him. I'll say: You're right. And that's when I'll just kiss him. I'll do it too. I'll lead him on, thinkin' that I'm not interested, and then, all romantic like, I'll just kiss him – just like they do in the movies. And when he asks me what that was for I'll tell him: cause I – cause I," Jayne choked on the word.

Gorramit, what was he thinking? Even if he did love Simon, what would come of it? It wasn't even worth starting anything. Sure, he was now able to admit it to himself, and he felt so willing to admit it to Simon – but what of the rest of the crew? What difference would it make? There was no way in hell he was going to come out as sly to the captain or Zoe, or anyone for that matter. What would become of them even? Not like they'd be able to be happily ever after in love. They'd have to hide, bribe the moonbrain to keep her mouth shut, they'd never be able to touch in public – and his ma – what would his ma think?

But then he thought about Inara. How angry he was at her for not telling Mal how she felt. For being so stubborn. How she missed out on so much because she wouldn't tell him. How it was too late now, too late for her to make up anytime. The thought made him shudder. He didn't want to wait until it was too late. He couldn't. And he found himself no longer caring at all what would come of it. He just wanted Simon to know – he needed Simon to know how he felt. He looked up again at himself in the mirror. "Because I love you," he said resolutely.

After rehearsing his speech a few more times, he turned from his mirror with a huge grin on his face. He quickly threw on pants and a shirt and rushed out of his bunk and down the halls to Simon's bunk. There he faced an unexpected altercation at the suddenly cruel hands of Simon Tam. Disoriented and confused, Jayne returned to his bunk. He fell into his sheets, scratched his head, and remembered in that moment, that he'd completely forgotten how to cry.

AN: Also, I'd like to say 'you're welcome' for a mostly naked Jayne scene. Just to be clear, yes, he's completely naked from the moment he steps out of the shower. Go back – reread it, the visual is so much better that way Thank you everyone for being patient. Reviews are essential to me right now, a writer who has lost the will to write has nothing to keep them going if they have no fans to write for.


	28. Chapter 28

AN: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! It meant so much to know that you guys actually still cared about this fic. It started out as something just for me, but it's easier to love something when you know others do too. This is a movement chapter. A lot happens in it, but it's putting me in place to take us where we need to be next.

Emotions weren't his strong suit. The fact that he'd been very happy at all was a rare occasion for Jayne. Therefore, this bipolar swing from incredible happy to utterly destroyed was enough to crack any man of weak emotional constitution. Therefore, Jayne reached out to the only emotion he knew he was good at – anger. And with it, he wreaked chaos.

The change was noted by nearly everyone on the crew – at least everyone who didn't matter. Each day that passed when the pompous doctor didn't even leave his quarters, Jayne grew angrier. His frustration directed itself into discontent with Mal for being so slow on his uptake of jobs, and their inability to find the stupid mafia boss they were after anyway. The arguments between captain and mercenary became more frequent and more than once, Zoe had to step in and pull Mal off before he pushed Jayne into doing some incredibly stupid.

This alone, should have been enough to convince Mal to send Jayne off on the very next planet they landed on, but, as he found it, he would need an extra man more than he realized. Runan was not exactly the sort of place one goes to find crew members. Even in a spot and with nearly no standards at all to speak of, the planet was completely devoid of anyone who seemed to know the difference between hand grenades and an automatic rifle. Mal certainly wasn't happy with the thought of keeping the intolerable mercenary aboard his ship at this precise moment.

None the less, despite his begging and pleading, he found he could not change the minds of his pilot and his medic. Simon had come up to him only a few days before landing and informed him that he and his sister needed to leave. Not surprisingly, this came as something of a blindside to the captain and only worsened his already foul mood. He asked for the reason and got nothing more than that the two had something they needed to do, and if all went well, they might contact him in the future. Desperate, he tried to get from the doctor, what, exactly they had to do, offering to help them but was met with a cold, stern response that he would have never expected from the core-grown young man he'd hired on his ship in the first place.

And so that left Mal Reynolds here, standing on the docks at Runan, staring across a primitive farm planet, cursing his luck, and dreading the thought of spending one more day on the ship with the ungrateful Jayne Cobb. To make matters worse, they hadn't been able to make contact with Durintrel in nearly a month now and had no update as to Inara's condition. Their job was simple enough, at least. It was an easy delivery – a legal delivery to boot, of surplus corn to a planet not too far off that was currently suffering of famine. It would only take them a few days and perhaps there he would have some luck in hiring a new mercenary and, if he was very lucky, a new pilot who knew the difference between a Firefly class and a Bonzai.

Mal grunted one final groan of frustration before radioing up to Zoe to prepare for takeoff and walked up the ramp into the cargo hold. Already, the ship felt empty. He did a mental head count – four. Four crew members was hardly enough to attempt anything dangerous now, and he hoped that the 'easy' drop he was hoping for would actually go as planned. Of course, they never did, but Mal could hope until his face turned red. He trudged up the stairs to the helm and, with some assistance from Zoe, managed to get the ship in the air and pointed in the right direction. For now, the mercenary was silent and for that, Mal was grateful.

It isn't surprising then, when a few days later, the drop that was supposed to be easy, turned into the regular nightmare that the crew of Serenity had come to expect. As much as he'd have liked to blame Jayne for the entire altercation, he knew that, were it not for Jayne having such a suspicious and trigger happy mind-set, they probably would have never made it out of that place in one piece.

As soon as they landed, it was suspect something was wrong. Instead of the starving peasants Mal had expected to find, he was greeted by a band of well-dressed and plump-looking executives with a small band of suspicious looking body guards. They introduced themselves as the ambassadors for the peasants in the local villages and explained that they would be more than happy to relieve the cargo from their hold at double the asking price and deliver it, respectfully, to the local village. To prove their story they produced one very meager looking fellow, a local, to shakily announce that their story was true and that the villagers would receive their due in good time.

This is where Jayne's rashness actually turned out to be fortunate for them. Having balled up all his anger in the past few days, he opened fire. He first took out the bodyguard who seemed to have the charge over the rest, catching the others off guard and leaving them somewhat unsure of what they were to do next. Jayne then quickly took out three more body guards before turning on the plump fellows doing all the talking. Those were the ones that had gotten under his skin in the first place anyway.

Mal was slow to react, resulting in a bullet from one of the remaining bodyguards to plant itself squarely into Jayne's right thigh. Fortunately for him, it appeared none of them were armed with weapons that were any good, and, despite the incredible pain he found himself in, the rage gave him more to go on. In a hulk-like rage, Jayne turned his gun on the remaining body guard and then watched as Mal finished off the last "ambassador", leaving only the ragged villager standing amongst a small collection of dead and broken bodies. Jayne aimed his weapon at the villager whose hands were now in the air. Jayne let out a long breath.

When he next awoke he was laying in the infirmary. Mal had caught him perfectly across the head with a solid punch to prevent him from putting a bullet in the starving villager. There were restraints around his arms and legs and one more across his chest. Zoe was already at work putting a final stitch in his thigh when he looked up.

"Gorram doctor couldn't even bring himself out to do a quick patch," he mumbled, angrier still at the absence of the doctor even in his own infirmary. "Goes to show how useless he is. All high and mighty and better than easy fixes, huh?" Jayne clenched his fists as she tied the last knot in the thread.

Zoe looked down at him with a very concerned look on her face. She stared at him without saying a word and tried to read his face. It wasn't his ignorance of the doctor's departure that concerned her the most – it was the annoyance with the doctor – the doctor that they had all come to suspect was becoming unexpected friends with the mercenary – what up until a week ago. She looked at his rough, anger filled eyes, and behind them she saw something she hadn't expected at all. She saw pain. Of course, it wasn't the kind of pain she was expecting. It wasn't the pain from the wound in his thigh that she had finished patching up. It was a deeper, an emotional pain, and she found herself desperate to know what it was from.

"Jayne, Simon's not here. He left when we landed on Runan. He and River both left."

And in that moment she saw an even deeper pain behind his angry eyes. She saw a desperation, a pleading to be told that this wasn't the truth. She saw him squirm against the restraints, uncomfortable. She watched his nose wrinkle as he fought back what could only be considered more anger.

What it really was were tears. Jayne still hadn't cried. He didn't remember how. Up until now his anger had done its job in distracting him from the pain he was feeling. He was so confused, so hurt. The doctor had bared his heart, shown him love, shown him concern, and then left without a kind word or a smile. He'd left in a rush, as if desperate to get away from him, as if – disgusted by his actions. Jayne grunted and strained some more against the restraints.

"You about done then?" He tried to move.

Zoe just stared at him, transfixed by this transformation on Jayne's face. She didn't understand it but a part of her could feel it. Something similar that she'd experienced before. The loss. Still curious she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She looked him in the eye, suddenly realizing something she'd been so blind to until now. She undid the restraints around his arms and chest and then the ones on his feet and stared, helpless, as the mercenary limped out of the infirmary as fast as he could back to his bunk.

The truth was, under Zoe's stare, Jayne suddenly felt naked. As if she was looking into something he was trying so hard to keep hidden. It was as if she could see right through him and he didn't like it one bit. Back in his bunk, he fell on his bed, punching the mattress as he fell. The doc was gone. Probably forever. Probably because he was disgusted with himself for kissing such a person as Jayne was. Probably because Jayne had scared him off with his rugged good looks and charm. And Jayne would never get to tell him how he really felt.

But now, he didn't care. He couldn't care. It was no longer his concern. Simon had made the decision that what might exist between them was a mistake that he didn't want to make. And Jayne just couldn't care about it. What was done was done, he would move on. His body shook as he let go of the hope. He let go of the emotions. He felt numb and alone. He curled up into a ball on his bed, leaving his wounded leg lay gingerly to the side, and he fell asleep, numb and alone, but ready to move forward.

AN: We will go back and see what Simon is up to, no worries. Please continue to review – I love to see what you guys are thinking!


	29. Chapter 29

AN: I can't begin to say again how much I really appreciate everyone's patience through this whole thing. I've finally figured out where this is going and have a very clear itinerary. That doesn't necessarily mean I'll be able to update as often as I like (work has me working overtime a lot and five 12s doesn't leave much room for writing). I'm sorry if this is a weak chapter, I haven't written in a while, so I'm using that excuse again. My words just aren't as good when I don't keep practicing them :-P

On the other side of the universe, something completely different was happening. All of his life, Simon had spent his fortune, his time, and his charm in the pursuit of happiness. Never for himself though. His focus was always on the happiness of his sister, his father, and his mother. He'd always lavished expensive gifts on his brilliant little sister, poured himself into his work to please his father, and took to courtesy and manners to please his mother who could brag of having the sweetest, kindest son in all the core. Even as a child he never had time for his own pleasures, he'd never had time to focus on what made him happy. All he knew was that making his family happy did bring him a feeling he supposed resembled happiness.

Well, he thought it resembled happiness until recently. Now he realized that his entire life he'd never experience what it was like to smile because there was nothing else he could do. Smile, not something that was forced, but something that came from somewhere deep inside of him, from a warm feeling that nothing else he'd ever experienced could even hold a light to. Until he'd fallen in love with Jayne Cobb, he'd never even been content.

That was behind him now, and as much as he knew he was doing the right thing, he was a wreck. He'd left without saying goodbye, without an explanation, without so much as a friendly nod. And the fact was that he couldn't. He simply couldn't bring himself to look one more time into those green eyes knowing that there was a chance he'd never look at them again. This mission of his, this goal to find and save his parents – it was probably a suicide mission. The best case scenario he could think of was that they would find his parents, raid the prison, River would destroy everything in her path, they would find his parents, get them out, and, in the process of escape, he, Simon, who would be covering their tail, would take an Alliance bullet in the back and not live to see tomorrow. The most likely thing to suspect was that they would find out where his parents were, and that they were dead, and then after having been discovered to be snooping on a top secret Alliance prison, he would be captured, tried, and killed by firing squad – River would escape, of course, because, as he'd known as a child, it's impossible to catch her if she doesn't want to be caught.

Simon was now laying in a bunk given to him by the captain of an old Genesis class, the first ship he could find heading to the core. The ship was nothing next to Serenity but that didn't matter. All they had to do was make it, unrecognized, to Hanhei where he would be able to get in contact with the same people who had helped him to rescue his sister. They would be able to set him up with the tools he needed to find out if his parents were still alive – and where. That was all they would do for him, he was sure. Unlike last time, he didn't have the endless fortune of his family to get much assistance from them.

River rapped quietly on his bunk door. He knew it was her because no one else had ventured to bother him on this ship. He'd done his best to play the hardened criminal and had done remarkably well since, as Mal had once pointed out, his fear face and his angry face were very similar. In a weak voice, he invited her in and she closed the door behind her.

She could feel everything from him – and she hated it. She'd tried to avoid him, tried to get the thoughts out of her head, but even the distance couldn't mask the passion in his emotions. He was miserable, and this was something he couldn't hide from her. River crawled up onto the bunk and curled up in small ball near his feet.

Simon took a deep breath. "What's the matter, little one?" he pushed her playfully with one foot.

River just sort of wimpered, looking for the right words to say what she wanted to say. She was so overwhelmed by how miserable he was that the words became jumbled and she just sat there quietly.

Simon sat up. "No need to worry," he tried to reassure her. "They'll be alive, and we'll find them. We'll save them, River. We'll be a family."

River remained silent and still until she felt Simon lay a loving hand on the top of her head and start to play with her messy curls. She sat up instantly. "Stop it," she said quickly. She just couldn't stand it. His touch, his smell, his room, it reeked of hurt and it was all she could do not to start crying.

Simon's eyes narrowed at her, he didn't know what to make of it. His little sister had never shied away from his touch, she'd never disliked his playing with her hair. She'd never denied him the brotherly duties of caring for her when she was hurting.

"You're right," she finally managed, struggling with her words. "Except it's different right now. I'm not hurting. You are," she finally let out a long breath, relieved that she was able to get that much out. "You need me."

Simon stared at her. He'd never thought about how much his own feelings might be affecting her. He'd never even stopped to consider that she probably knew everything and that there really was no point in avoiding talking to her about everything he had experienced with Jayne. He'd tried to hide his pain from her because he didn't want to give her more to concern about. Of course, he thought, she felt it anyway. Just because he didn't say something didn't mean she didn't feel it. He laid a protective hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

River straightened up. "Stop it!" She said it this time with more conviction. "All you hear is 'River is hurting.' All you think is 'Poor River'. What about Simon? You're hurting, I can feel it all over. Your brain – it keeps crying. All the time. It misses him, it craves him. But it pushes him out because Simon's not important," she added extra emphasis when she said Simon's name. "Simon comes second, second to River, second to his parents, always second, never first. Why?" She looked at him with pleading eyes, begging for an answer, her words beginning to fail. "You're hurting," she said again for emphasis.

Simon could feel the tears welling up as she spoke the words that he'd only begun to think so many times. The words that he would think and then reprimand himself for being so selfish. Words he hated to think about and words he hated to hear aloud even more. "Because I'll be fine," he finally sighed. "Because they need me more."

River stood quickly, her anger building and confusing her. Her words became jumbled and she struggled again to speak. "But who are you!" she finally blurted before running out of the room to find her own small bunk and refuge.

Simon watched her as she disappeared quickly, and then, without warning, he began to cry. Alone in his room with no one to see, he cried. He cried until his stomach hurt from sobbing, until he couldn't breathe but only pant, exhausted, until the tears no longer took on a liquid form but were replaced instead by a silent invisible stream. God, he was so miserable. Leaving Jayne behind was like leaving behind his body. He was absolutely useless. All he did everyday was prove to the world that he was a great actor. He pretended that there was something more than anger in the shell he showed to everyone. But the truth was he cried every night and he wasn't sleeping. He'd ignored everything, calling it self-pity, calling it selfishness, ignoring it because others needed him.

His sister was a devilish imp for making him confront this. But he loved her. He understood. He knew why she had to do it. He walked to the wash basin and began to wash his face. His eyes were puffy and his nose swollen.

A knock on his door pulled him back to reality. "Captain says we're making a stop in Durintrel," the voice of the first mate echoed outside his door.

Simon stared at the mirror, a sudden resolve making its way into his eyes. "Thank you," he said. "Please tell the captain that we'll be getting off here."

AN: I really wanted to take the chance to give a big thanks to Seiga Niko, anne, BewareTheIdesOfMarch, and enigmaticIncognito – not because they're my only fans, but because their continued reviews have really pushed me to not give up on this story even when I feel like I have nothing left at the end of the day. There are a number more of you guys too and I really appreciate all of you for being so supportive, I love this story, I love these characters, and I can't wait to see how they turn out in the end. It's an adventure for us all!


	30. Chapter 30

AN: Omg, I know it's been forever. But as a birthday present for my birthday to all of you, I figured I had time to write an update! And I am happy with it. It's rusty and a little short, but I hope it holds you over a little bit longer. I'm in the process of moving and work is a pain – I have been getting an average of 5 hours of sleep a day trying to get everything done, I simply have not had the hours to commit to writing in weeks. I'm so sorry, I love you all and I hope you enjoy this!

The ringing in his ears hadn't subsided yet. Everything was still a bit blurry. Two bright lights in front of him strained his eyes and he squinted to avoid their full brunt. Curly brown locks fell in front of his face as he tried to make out what exactly had happened. 'Ok, Simon,' he told himself. 'Let's just go back as far as you can remember.'

Blue. That's all he could make out clearly. Blue, what was blue? Blue, he remembered, the color of the walls inside his bunk on… no… not Serenity. It was a different ship. That was it. He was on a different ship – he was headed out to…. He had left Serenity to… he had left… Simon struggled and closed his eyes tighter. 'Go back further if you have to, what do you remember last?'

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into blue. But this time he could make the blue out perfectly. He smiled at the blue, felt the warmth of the blue take him over, felt it fill him. He moved in closer to it, to them, to those incredible blue eyes. He felt it, lifted himself into it, the sweet caress of his own lips against the rough but perfect lips of someone he loved. He felt content but strained the next moment against a pain that pulled at his very core. The happiness, it was gone again. Simon struggled to remember. He remembered kissing Jayne, he remember how incredible it felt to smile again – to really feel happy. He remembered the fight, he remembered now. He remembered the letter, leaving. And the ship – the blue of the walls.

He remembered the first mate and the slight argument he put up when Simon had announced they were going to be getting off when the ship stopped at… at Durintrel. It had been too fortunate, such a perfect coincidence. He would get off the ship, he would find Inara, they would contact the ship, and he would… that part was actually unclear. But it didn't matter.

He remembered River running into their room, quietly excited. There was something… passive in her demeanor but she only let on how glad she was that he was finally going to do something that didn't make him so miserable. He remembered her calling him a number of offensive names that, coming from anyone other than his sister, would have account for insults, but coming from her meant affection and admiration.

He watched himself and his sister walk into the halls of the hospital, give their authorization to the lead nurses on Inara's floor. He remembered waiting for confirmation. He remembered the look the nurse gave him. The confusion he felt. The nod saying they could proceed. He remembered turning into her room, seeing her there on the bed and then… black.

"Simon," River's voice prodded at him again as she hovered in front of his face.

Simon focused on the brown curls that were now blocking the bright lights. He focused on the face attached to the brown curls. He stared up at his sister. He struggled with his memory again and then he saw it. When he turned into the room he didn't see what he was expecting. All that was on the bed was a skeleton of woman that he had once known to be vibrant and beautiful. He could hardly see the beauty any more, the sickness had taken its place. Simon hadn't even imagined there was a possibility that Inara could be any worse. It had only been a few months at most since they'd seen her last. In that time, how could she have changed so much, how could this have progressed so quickly? And why hadn't she let them know.

He remembered hitting the floor. He remembered hitting his head – hard. The ringing in his ears brought him back again. He stared into River's eyes. "She's dying," this came out more as a sob and he watched River nod in agreeance.

"You fell again," River changed the subject. She couldn't face that moment again. It had been terrifying for her. She felt just an outline of the flood of emotions that had accosted her in that moment and she knew that facing it again would be impossible.

She remembered Simon. When he'd seen her, his face had gone pale as he went through several stages. First he struggled with the disease, how he should be able to fix it, then he struggled with how he would fix it, then how he couldn't fix it, then finally at a black-out moment of realizing he was a core-trained doctor, the best of the best, and there was absolutely nothing he could do for the first time in his life. Nothing.

She remembered Inara. When she'd seen them walk in the door. First a panic, a dreading that they would be frightened by what they saw, a remembered of how frightened she was when she looked in the mirror, a contentment then, of her situation, her accepting her fate all over again, then an excitement, hoping that behind them would walk in the man she cared so much for, then a disappoint when she realized he wasn't going to, then an absolute shock as she watched Simon crash to the ground.

Just the outline of the moments and the feelings pushed her to the edge of her sanity as she struggled to find out how she felt in that moment and what feelings might be hers. River pushed with the subject change, trying to keep herself from going to that dark place where she could be calm but was so hard to come back out from. "You fell again because you are a boob," she poked him in the chest. "Just because you can't help her doesn't mean you can't stay awake. You can be there, you know," she fought the urge to run to her comfortable home inside her head.

Simon looked up at her again. "She's going to die soon," he said again. "We have to tell Mal."

"No!" Came a weak voice. Simon looked around to realize that he was still laying on the ground in Inara's hospital room. They hadn't had a Jayne around this time to lift him up and carry him elsewhere. Simon sat up and stared at Inara, seeing again the horrifying image that had caused him to lose himself before. But instead he stood and rushed to her side.

"No," he shook his head. "Do you remember what you told me? Do you remember? You were right though," he rushed through his words, terrified that any time wasted could be the difference between her hearing them and her being dead before he finished. "I do love him, I am crazy for him. And so are you. You need Mal. You need him here. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to him – don't shut him out right now. It's terrifying and you think that the only way to get through it is alone. But that's not true. You can ask him to be here, you can ask him to help. You can…" his voice trailed as he thought of Jayne. He thought of how he'd been too afraid to ask Jayne to help him with this mission because he was terrified it was going to kill him. He'd thought it would be easier to face his death if the person he loved was standing there beside him giving him every reason to live. "You can pretend like its not important, but when it comes time to go, you're only going to fight harder." He pressed his hand into hers. "Let me call them."

Inara's eyes were the only part of her that still gave off the lustrous beauty she was known for and in them right now were tears. All she could do was nod.

River retreated into the dark place inside her head, overwhelmed by the moment happening. But this time the place was not so scary because she took with her the love that she felt. She left behind the fear and the pain and took only the love to that place. She held on to it, she cherished it, and she waited for the moments to pass so that she might return again.

AN: And now I have to run because I have so much stuff to get done today. I really hope you all enjoy this and thank you, thank you, thank you so much for sticking with me and being so patient during this long hiatus. I promise to update the very next chance I get (which might be a while) but I do love this story and I do love you all and I hope to give everyone a sense of resolution eventually with this story (it still has a ways to go). Thank you again! 3


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